


Nobody

by Wings_and_Feet



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ash Lynx Lives, Ash is not ok., Blanca has a heart after all, But not how you think, Eiji said forever and he meant it, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Minor Lee Yut-Lung/Sing Soo-Ling, Pining, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:15:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29691435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wings_and_Feet/pseuds/Wings_and_Feet
Summary: Ash intended to die, at peace with his ending. So when he wakes up it isn’t necessarily something he was looking for.Then Blanca offers him a deal he can’t refuse. Help him eliminate even the memory of Banana Fish. In return Blanca will guarantee Eiji’s safety.So Ash is dead after all. And Nobody takes his place. But he can’t just walk away.Alternately:Ash Lives! But has to trade what little freedom he had managed to create for himself for the safety of the people he loves. Lucky for him, those people don’t give up easily. And it turns out Blanca has a heart after all.
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Sing Soo-Ling, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Blanca & Ash Lynx, Okumura Eiji & Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 68
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

Nobody

Sound filtered in first. It caught his attention because it was all wrong. There was no susurrus of rustling pages, no sudden cough, no stage-whispered voices. There was no distant shout of a child in another area. And there should have been. He was intimately familiar with the sounds of the reading room. It was his place of refuge, the cathedral for a man who had long ago stopped considering the possibility of a god. 

The sounds here were also peaceful—a breeze through tree branches or thick foliage. A bird call. And in the distance, the sound of the sea, a crashing drone he remembered from childhood. Yet these waves had a different timbre, as if they struck something much softer than rocks. Unease flitted through his thoughts, but he couldn't hold onto it. Everything was muted, soft and indistinct around the edges. This place sounded peaceful.

His mind felt muzzy, full of cotton and flickering lights. He considered opening his eyes but decided against it. He could feel light, bright against his eyelids. The orange glow was too intense for the indirect lighting in his sanctuary or the cloudy sky of Cape Cod. He was glad, in a way. He had always, in as much as he thought of it at all, thought that hell would be those endless grassy fields, that constant wind and the crash of waves echoing forever in the abandoned house that should have been a home but never was. That was where Aslan died and Ash Lynx started, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. That was where he always rather expected to end up. And this was decidedly not there.

He drew in a deep breath, or started to. A sudden, sharp stitch in his side left him panting. Pain. Probably not dead then--the odd thought rooted in his mind. That was somehow wrong too. Still, he was familiar enough with the ways the human body could hurt to recognize the pull of stitches. So not only was he not dead, he had gotten some sort of medical attention. Probably a hospital, then. He lay still, slowly tightening different muscle groups to ascertain the damage he’s taken. He thought it was just the single injury. He was tired, weak--more weak than a wound this small should cause. Must have damaged something vital, then. He tried to remember the location of his spleen. He couldn’t, quite. His head was spinning, and his throat was so dry it seemed to click when he tried to swallow. How long had he been unconscious? A twitch of his wrist identified an IV in his left hand. So, not dead in hell,  _ and _ not dumped into his room in one of his various hideouts throughout the city. 

And definitely not in the library.

But he  _ should _ be in the library. Why? He tried to force his brain to grasp the thought. It was important. He should be there in  _ his _ chair reading  _ his _ letter one more time--letting himself feel what it felt like to be loved. It had been cold, colder than it should have been. But he had felt so warm because...because? He almost had the slippery thought. Because Eiji was...Clarity struck him like lightning, chasing away the vagueness and replacing it with a need to get away, to run, to…

Alarm was shrieking through his mind. He should be dead. He was supposed to be dead. He had accepted it. Even deserved it, probably. For Shorter and Skip and Griff and so many others that he couldn’t save or didn’t try to. The blood on his hands had been real, even. 

He’d thought, when he got that letter--for just a tiny, precious second--he’d thought he could do both. He could love and live. But, to love was to die. Because to die was the only way to be sure. And he  _ needed _ to be sure. Because Eiji was worth any cost. He couldn’t save the others. He would save Eiji. He would do this  _ one _ good thing. Even he should be capable of that. Eiji had saved him, after all. His light had shone in the darkest places Ash’s mind could conjure. And the only thing he had to give him, the only gift that could possibly matter, was the gift of freedom. Freedom from violence. Freedom from fear. Freedom from him. 

He already had everything he could possibly want in return.

My soul will always be with you.

He could feel tears gather behind his eyelids. This is what he wanted. Mostly. He had given Eiji up. He had done what he was called upon to do. He’d even been a little proud. He wasn’t as selfish as he feared. He banished the thought of his wild run toward the airport. It had been a momentary lapse. The universe had certainly seen fit to remind him. When he’d returned to the library it was with the deep satisfaction that he had erased even ‘maybe someday,’ and Eiji would be free to grieve, and heal, and live.

Some part of him would never forgive Lao. But he was still grateful. 

He had Eiji’s words to warm him, hold him gently as he passed--so beautiful, so cherished, so bright. It had been peaceful, like easing into a warm bath or a sweet dream. The world had spun a little, but there, in the center of the maelstrom, was his anchor, his everything. He was ready to let go. And Eiji would be safe. 

He hadn't expected to have to live with the result.

There was likely some sort of painkiller in the IV. His side didn’t hurt enough otherwise. He wished there was something that could touch the yawning ache in his chest. It was hard to breathe. He was surprised alarms weren’t blaring, calling some well-meaning doctor or nurse hell-bent on keeping him from dying. He could feel his heart racing, fluttering against the iron vice squeezing it.

There was no sound. No beeping heart monitor. No alarm. No hushed voice exuding a trained calm. Just the sound of his own harsh panting and the call of the birds. And the waves.

For a moment, he wondered if he was back in Golzin’s medical suite. It would be just his luck--a different hell, but no less filled with horror. But Golzine was dead. And this didn’t sound like that place either. His skin crawled at the ghosts of clammy fingers, but the humid air chased them away easily enough. 

Panic is the enemy of the survivor. Blanca had taught him that. A calm mind made better decisions, reacted more clearly, more cleanly. Recalling his training, even through his drug-addled thoughts, he forced himself to relax and take stock. He sighed again, more carefully this time, and forced his eyes open. From where he was laying, he could see pastel walls and a high ceiling. A fan lazily twirled overhead. Opposite him, a window looked out over tropical trees and a lush lawn. He recognized two kinds of palm and what he thought might be banana. 

Banana. The thought stirred something in his tired mind but it seemed far away and unimportant. What was important was figuring out where he was. And why. Then formulating an escape, getting back to familiar territory. Checking on his guys. Making sure Eiji’s plane had landed safely, that his family had welcomed him home to a life better suited to someone born to the light. A good life. A safe life. A life without… He forced himself to focus. 

Step one. Get this IV out, so he could think clearly. Everything else could wait. That was the priority. That, and finding his letter. 

He fumbled, pulling away the medical tape. His fingers felt stiff, almost swollen. What the hell was even in this IV? Finally, he felt the sting that meant he had managed to grasp and shift the needle. He tugged it out, being careful to avoid any noise or sudden movements. He didn’t see cameras or other surveillance, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Free of the needle, he pressed his hand firmly against the bandage on his side, suppressing a grimace. It hurt, but experience told him it would hurt more if he popped open the stitches. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Support was key. He couldn’t afford to bleed too much either. He’d been nearly killed more than once, and drugs or no, he knew that the swooping, weightless feeling was due at least in part to blood loss. Plus, he remembered…

_ His shirt was saturated but the coat covered it, so no one would notice. He had time. His hands were shaking, but he could steady them enough on the table to read the words once more. Maybe twice if he was truly lucky. He felt rather than heard the near-silent drip of his life-blood off the corner of the chair. He had a thought to move his leg, catch the mess, avoid being noticed for just a little longer. Just a little longer here with those words and all the love they offered...Just a little longer… _

The room swung crazily around him as he shook his head, trying to regain his focus. His stomach roiled for a minute, but he ignored it. His chest throbbed with something he couldn’t quite name in his current state. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly and carefully through his nose. He could not throw up. And, he didn’t have time for whatever emotion was trying to overwhelm him right now. Assess. Decide. Act. Nowhere in his training had there been time for wondering why the world seemed determined to kill him but unwilling to let him die.

Once he was sure he wouldn’t pass out or throw up when he moved again, he took a moment to take stock of his clothing situation. He was barefoot, obviously. Also shirtless. But he had on a loose pair of pale green pajama pants. It wasn’t ideal for a New York winter, but it was better than the open-backed gown that would have been more likely in a typical hospital. He could work with this. He’d just have to steal some clothes.

He paused, blinking for a moment in confusion. Something wasn’t adding up. He stood still, letting his conscious mind catch up. The world out the window was not New York in winter. He didn’t feel quite weak enough to have been in a coma for months. The muscles in his legs didn’t shake like they’d begun to atrophy. His throat was dry but didn’t have the kind of painful abrasions that implied he’d been on any kind of ventilator. So then where the hell was he?

Door or window? With the ache in his side, it wouldn’t be pleasant to kick down a door, but breaking a window without getting cut was harder than Hollywood made it look. The less bleeding he did for now, the better. So, door it is. Back to the wall, he edged toward the pale wooden door. There didn’t seem to be a deadbolt. In fact, the knob looked old-fashioned and rather flimsy. If he was lucky, he could just force the lock, rather than take the impact of kicking it in. Slowly he turned the knob, testing for the type of resistance. 

The knob turned easily. The door clicked open, swinging outward away from him. Through the open doorway, he could see a stone walkway leading into a garden bursting with hibiscus, jasmine, and those waxy red flowers that always looked fake to him. A wave of humid heat hit him, making him aware of the chill of air conditioning emanating from the room behind him. The birds were louder now, more raucous, and the gentle wash of the waves whispered continuously beneath them. He couldn’t see the ocean, but there was no doubt it was there.

No help for it. He needed information. And there wasn’t really any to be had inside the bare not-quite-hospital room he had been in. Forgoing the rocky path in his bare feet, he opted instead to walk across the manicured grass. It was cool, soft beneath his feet and slightly damp. If he wasn’t dizzy, disoriented, shirtless, and inexplicably alive when his last memory was of bleeding to death peacefully, it would have felt nice.

Clothes. Letter. Escape. He swallowed uncomfortably. Food and water also moved onto his mental list. He’d been right about the drugs though. He was already feeling both more pain and less disorientation. 

“Hello, Ash. It’s good to see you up and about.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ash spun, instinctively falling into a defensive crouch. But if he was right, and a few things certainly fell into place if he was, there was no point. At his very best, he had no chance. Dehydrated, injured, and half-naked it was laughable.

Blanca stood before him, dressed casually in a linen shirt and pants, a woven hat shading his eyes from bright tropical sun. 

Puzzle pieces connected, and he could finally make out at least part of the pictue. He was in the Caribbean. With Blanca. He remembered Blanca’s offer. He had turned it down. Ash had many regrets in his short life, but that wasn’t one of them. He didn’t want to be a tool or a gun for hire. He’d take care of his gang, maybe look out for little Sing a bit. But he didn’t want to be a cold-hearted killer, at least not more than he already was. He forced himself not to think of Shorter. That had been Mercy, dammit. 

Chance had put a gun in his hand. Necessity had taught him to use it. He had no desire to become a true assassin, selling death to the highest bidder. But if there was one thing that Ash knew to his very core, it was that wanting something and having it were not the same thing. 

...Eiji…

...was Safe and HOME and  **AWAY** . And no matter how much that made his chest feel caved in and his ears ring, it was also good. He had his words. It was enough. It had to be.

If he was here, with Blanca, desire may not be a particularly important factor. It was abundantly clear that Blanca didn’t particularly care what he wanted. There were a few advantages though. First, Blanca had never seemed particularly interested in Ash’s body beyond training it to fight and kill. Second, it was unlikely that Blanca intended to hurt him or those close to him, at least immediately. If he had wanted him dead, he’d be dead. The fact that he wasn’t implied Blanca wanted him alive. And most importantly, third, there was no way he’d left Eiji’s letter in that library to create a paper trail or inspire some eager police rookie or junior journalist to go poking where they shouldn't. “Where is it, Blanca?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. It?” His face offered nothing, his tone was smooth and vaguely confused. He was the picture of polite befuddlement. He clearly had no idea what Ash was talking about. 

Ash wasn’t buying it for a second. 

Without a weapon, he didn’t have much in the way of bargaining power. But Blanca clearly had something in mind for him, or he wouldn’t be here. He could play the game for a little while. At least until he regained a little more strength, cleared his head a little. He didn’t hold out much hope that Blanca would make a mistake, but anything was possible, he supposed. 

He wasn’t sure he had ever felt this tired. He was so, so exhausted. For a second, he honestly considered curling up on the grass, here beneath the tropic sun, and never moving again. Instead he spoke. “What do you want, Blanca?”

“I want what you want, Ash.” He ignored Ash’s snort of derision. “I want every trace of this sordid story erased. I want Banana Fish to be a nightmare no one remembers. I want to be certain each and every trace of Golzine’s play for power is either gone or made clear as the ramblings of a senile old madman.” 

Ash gave up on his fighting stance, simply allowing himself to drop onto the ground. His legs were trembling enough it would be obvious to Blanca anyway. No sense wasting energy he didn’t have to spare. “It...it’s over. Isn’t it?”

“You’re smarter than that, Ash. It isn’t over until everyone who knows about it is dead or discredited.” Blanca sank gracefully to the ground, crouching comfortably next to his protege. “You are going to help me erase the only known feasible mind control drug from the face of reality.” He handed Ash a crumpled and smudged envelope, His envelope. “And in return, I am going to pretend that your friend never knew anything about anything. I’m going to let it be known that he was nothing, an innocent lover you took on a whim, a pawn to annoy the Lee boy. I’m going to let him live.”

Ash stared at him, eyes wide in dawning horror. The unspoken threat echoed loudly through the garden. Ash held himself still, refusing to give in to the panic that was making his hands numb and his stomach icy. Because the terms were clear. Do what Blanca wanted, and Eiji lived, ignorant, untouched and free. Refuse and…

“Are the terms acceptable, Ash?” Blanca continued to exude calm confidence. He simply failed to notice Ash’s dilated eyes and spasming fingers as he waited for the only answer he could give.

“Yes,” Ash croaked. “I’ll help you. I’ll do what you want, be whoever you want, as long as he is safe.” And it was true. He’d do it if the deal only protected Eiji. But Blanca only  _ supposed _ ; he didn’t  _ know _ , so Ash pushed. “and Max and Jesica,” he paused. How far can he go? “And Alex...and Sing.” Blanca held his eyes. Unlike nearly everyone Ash had ever known, he seemed to have no tell. “If they live, safe and protected, I’ll do it. Willingly.”

Blanca nodded once and held out his hand. Ash took it to shake. “But Blanca--” He didn’t release the other man’s hand.

“Yes, Ash?”

“If anything happens to Eiji, if he, he dies or gets hurt or…” Ash swallowed. “I will  _ find _ a way to kill you. If something happens to Eiji, I won’t have anything left to lose, Blanca. I will die if I must, but I WILL take you with me.”

Blanca gripped his hand, eyes intense and lips pressed briefly into a grim line. “Agreed.” He stood. “Now go back to bed. You need to recover from your dramatic idiocy. I’ve already had to dump two bags of blood into you. I don’t wish to waste resources.” 

He offered Ash a hand up, and Ash took it. There was no reason not to. He had made the deal. The remnants of his humanity for the people he loved. It was worth it. And hell, at least he’d be a monster in paradise. He’d always hated the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

Ash stared at his obituary. He’d already read it three times. Evidently Max had written it. It was the story of a good kid who had just been misunderstood, a lost little lamb that had needed help and support rather than the “horrific abuse” that he’d survived instead. He felt pathetic. The Bluebeard story was there, as was his time at the club. His abandonment by mother, then brother, then father. His lack of formal education. Ha. Max made sure his “reputation for mercy” conveniently ignored his execution of Arthur’s men. It said nothing of the way he’d murdered his best friend. He sounded like a goddamned hero.

He was pretty sure the picture was one that Eiji took. He was smiling in it. 

So he knew then. Ash Lynx was dead. Aslan Callanreese had died a very long time ago. Hopefully the third time would be the charm. He wasn’t sure if he hoped that Eiji mourned or not. 

“You’re moping.” Blanca sat down next to him, snagging a pastry off his untouched plate. “Is the food not to your liking?”

“It’s fine. And I’m not moping.” Ash snatched up a muffin before sniffing it and putting in down on his plate. If anyone had ever implied he’d miss stinky salted fish, he might have punched them. But he did. The muffins smelled overly sweet now, completely unappetizing. He’d even eat nato if it meant… Ash sighed, poking the top of the pastry and watching it spring up again. At Blanca’s raised eyebrow, he pointedly ripped off a bite and popped it in his mouth. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” 

Ash snorted. “So fine. I’m here. The hole in my abdomen is healing. I’ve practiced shooting every kind of gun you can think of--which is a massive number of guns, by the way. I’ve memorized how to mix, handle, and administer fourteen different toxins. I’ve created and refined two different decryption algorithms. And Max decided to paint me a some sort of fucking saint.” He dropped the paper on the table. 

Did Eiji know how he died? Did he care? Would he read this ridiculous fiction and take comfort? Or would he remember the Ash he knew? Ash ran a finger over the picture that accompanied his fairytale ending. As busy as he had been, he was still going stir crazy His mind refused to sit idle, and as dangerous as Blanca himself could be, this compound was perfectly safe. The biggest threat was that he would give in to the aching loss he felt and throw himself into the sea. “When do we actually move, Blanca? It’s been almost three weeks.”

“You’re healing, Ash. As a professional, it will be your duty to care for your body so that it may respond like well-oiled machinery when you call upon it.” He took a bite of his stolen muffin. “You have become careless, Ash. You are too willing to take damage, too accustomed to being injured. That must stop if we are to do what we must. Running in half-ready because you’re feeling tetchy will just get you killed and leave those you care about in danger.”

The force of his sigh blew his hair off his forehead. Ash glared at Blanca as he sat serenely eating Ash’s breakfast. The trouble was, Blanca was right. The plan was three-fold. First, Ash would recover his strength and hone his physical skills and knowledge in other assassination methods while he and Blanca slowly fed identity trails into the databases and computer networks of both the US government and the Corsican Mafia. It was tedious work, dropping in seconds of blurry surveillance footage and creating years of pay stubs and employment records and advancing security clearances. But it had to be done. 

Part two would come when they would infiltrate the organizations themselves. Hack into the systems. Erase any evidence that they or Banana Fish ever existed. When they were done, Golzine would look like a senile old man who had destroyed himself over a pretty toy. The project involving Banana Fish would be written off as a strain of heroine first encountered during the Iraqi conflict. It’s high caused mild hallucinations. Ash had been surprised to discover that such a drug actually existed. All the better, then because it was provable. It was also conveniently useless as a mind control drug. Though he supposed addicts could always be coerced.

The third part of the plan involved the systematic elimination of everyone who knew of Banana Fish and its effects. The rather spectacular deaths of the higher ranking US politicians and the fiery end to the National Mental Health Institute had started the job, but the list of necessary deaths wasn’t small. There was a lot to do.

It was theoretically challenging and interesting work. And Ash knew that he should be enjoying it. But he couldn’t concentrate. 

“Go on.” Blanca nudged him with his toe.

“Go on and do what?” Ash snapped. He dropped the remains of his half eaten muffin back onto his plate.   
  


“Ask.”

“No.”

“Ash. For god’s sake, as soon as our data trails are laid down, we’ll be going in undercover. How are you going to pull off a mild mannered computer programmer role with that glare and temper? Just ask your damned question, eat something, and focus.”

“How is he?”

At least Blanca had the decency to not pretend ignorance. “Physically? He’s healing. He’s out of the wheelchair and walking. He’s enrolled in school. He’s safe.”

“Good.” Ash hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to ask the next part. Would Blanca even understand.

“He’s in mourning. He hasn’t really learned how to lose you yet.” Blanca didn’t touch Ash, but his gaze softened. “You did the right thing, letting him go. But it doesn’t change the facts. You loved him. And he loved you. He will grieve, Ash. It will take time. You should never have let it go on so long.”

“Love.”

“What?” Blanca looked genuinely caught off guard.    
  
“Love, Blanca. Present tense. Not loved. I love Eiji. I am doing this for Eiji. Every fucking thing is for Eiji. Perhaps he does not exist for my redemption. But my atonement is all for him.”

“He will forget you, in time, Ash.”

“I know.” God that burned. Ash stood abruptly from the table. He couldn’t keep having this conversation. It would be easier to tell himself that Blanca didn’t understand. That he was cruel. But it wasn’t true. And that made it all worse. “I’m going to review the data from the mole programs I sent in on Saturday. Excuse me.”

  
  


**

“I need to see him, Blanca.”   
  
“That’s a terrible idea. If you’re recognized, you’ll blow the mission before it really begins.” Blanca didn’t say that it would be cruel to Eiji as well. He didn’t have to. It was clear in his bemused glare.

“I know. But I need to see him. I need to see, with my own eyes, that he’s ok.” Ash couldn’t quite keep the desperation out of his voice, the pleading from his eyes. He looked like a child. Blanca clearly wanted to refuse. He also clearly recognized that Ash would do as he damn well pleased, and once outside this compound there was fuck-all he could do to stop him if he wasn’t prepared to seriously damage him. And he wasn’t.

“I’m not stupid enough to be recognized, Blanca.”   
  


“Blond hair is noticeable in Asia, Ash. Someone will see you, and someone will say something.” He forced himself not to shake the boy in front of him. “You will draw attention to him. You will put him in the very danger you were willing to die to protect him from.” Blanca knew he’d already lost this battle. He knew Ash read that damned letter every night before he slept. He knew what name he cried out in his nightmares. He knew. 

Eiji was beginning to heal. Maybe. His sources said he was still deeply depressed. Either way, he wasn’t ok. Not yet. And Blanca didn’t want Ash to see it. Because even if Eiji was healing, Ash was not. Cold purpose wasn’t enough for him. Without his people, without his friends, Ash was retreating into a frightening obsessiveness.

“So I’ll dye my hair. Wear color contacts too. Black hair won’t stand out. Blue eyes can be striking enough that people will absolutely remember that they aren’t green. Shorter’s eyebrow piercing always drew attention too. I’m thinking nose, maybe lip, maybe eyebrow too. That and different clothes. It should be enough. I don’t want to talk to him, Blanca. But I need to see him.”

“And you’re willing to punch holes in your face for this to happen.”

“I was willing to put a bullet in my own brain for Eiji. My body has had much larger holes punched in it.” Ash’s glare faltered again, and Blanca was reminded of the young boy he had met all those years ago. He was still so young. 

  
  


As if in response to Blanca’s thought, the last of Ash’s bravado crumbled. “Please, Blanca. Please, I know what I agreed to. I’ll do it. I promise. Everything. I’ll do it all. But, I...Please.”

Blanca frowned, sighed deeply. “Fine. Once everything is in place, once everything is ready, once I believe YOU are ready...then you can go.” Blanca hoped in the upcoming weeks, Eiji managed to be doing at least outwardly better. If Ash cracked the rest of the way… He wasn’t in the mood to destroy the weapon he’d worked so hard to create. He understood Golzine’s desire to preserve this boy, but he had learned from his mistakes as well. 


	4. Chapter 4

Blanca was right. This was a terrible idea. 

Ash worried the ring through his lip with his tongue. He had pierced his eyebrow first, in honor of Shorter. But the damned stud clicked against his glasses, and Ash had thought he would lose his mind at the sound, the sensation. How had Shorter not gone insane? He flipped the silver wire again and closed his eyes. Soon.

He had begun teaching himself Japanese almost immediately upon waking up in the Caribbean. Blanca had raised an eyebrow, but admitted that being multilingual would be an advantage. He’d suggested Spanish but backed down from Ash’s fierce glare fairly quickly enough. He’d even hired a tutor when it became clear that supporting this made Ash’s focus on everything else notably better.

Even so, the amount of Japanese you could learn in ten weeks wasn’t enough to be fluent or even really able to properly communicate, even if you were a genius with a desperate motivation. He could ask basic questions, but beyond that, the language of this place is meaningless. So he feels exposed. He knew the sounds of New York, could tell when something was off by the weight of the sound or silence around him. Now, unable to eavesdrop or follow the meaning of the words echoing around him from phones, and people, and loudspeaker announcements, he felt more exposed than he had in Golzine’s club. Even the music was unintelligible. It made for a nerve wracking wall of noise that set Ashs’ teeth on edge. 

When he had realized that forbidding Ash wouldn’t stop him, Blanca had insisted he study the cultural mores of both rural and urban Japan before letting him out of the compound. So he knew it was common for people to be so close to him. It was expected to be jostled and shoved together. It was impossible to hide a gun or other weapon in a waistband or outer area of his body. It would be felt, noticed, and swiftly punished. Normal for Japan didn’t make it more comfortable for a touch-averse American teenager running on caffeine, jet lag and pure terror. And desperate, agonizing hope.

But he was here. He was surrounded by people who looked like Eiji, sounded like Eiji. He was making his way toward Izumo. He could feel the thrum of excited dread beneath his skin, almost enough to drown out the discomfort of his environment. 

Ash’s eyes wanted to tear. He was exhausted and overwhelmed and his body itched with the need to feel Eiji’s arms around it just one more time. He couldn’t cry. It wasn’t shame. He didn’t like to cry where others could see, avoided it if he could, but he’d done it enough to not be ashamed. But in Japan it was considered vulgar to show that kind of emotion in public. It would be noticed. And the prickle of mascara darkening his blond eyelashes reminded him that he had a disguise to maintain. He fought the urge to rub his burning eyes, reminding himself that he would see him, breathe the same air one more time. And that would have to be enough.

He would be in Japan with Eiji just once. Just like they had dreamed. Even if Eiji would never know, Ash would know. He would treasure it for both of them. 

In a few short hours, he could finally put his fears to rest, safe in the knowledge that Eiji was ok. He was home, with people who loved him. With people who would never be the reason he was bleeding or terrified or tied to the bed of a monster. Eiji would be free. 

And Ash could become what he was meant to become, do what needed to be done. He could infiltrate the monster’s most closely guarded lair. He could sneak and steal and kill until his mind was numb and his hands were drenched in blood. So long as he was safe. So long as he continued to live in this world, it would be a world worth saving, worth fighting for. Ash knew how to fight. And the world would be right. He would make it right. For him.

All it would cost was one boy that Eiji would forget in time. One boy he was better off without. 

***

There he was. Ash couldn’t look away. He walked with a cane, but he was up and walking. He didn’t look to be in pain. If anything the cane seemed to be for security rather than mobility. And people politely gave him more space as well. Ash thought that was deliberate. He wasn’t smiling, but he seemed engaged with the younger girl walking next to him. 

Something tight in Ash’s chest loosened. The last time he had seen him, pale and weak, nearly blind and fully disoriented by the medication pumped into his body had haunted him, plagued his dreams and waking hours alike. He had been so frail, so fragile. Ash had decided at that moment that even if he lived, he had to let him go. Because it was his fault. It was all his fault. 

He hated it. But look. Eiji moved under the bright sunlight, unafraid. No guards. No guns. No death or pain or fear. The wall behind him was whole, solid and clean, unmarred by broken glass and graffiti. He was so beautiful. He smiled a little at something the girl said. The feeling punched Ash in the chest. 

His hands twitched with his longing to reach out, to brush his hair out of his face. It was longer, covering his brows, in his eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets. He had seen what he had come to see. He should go. But surely he could have just a minute more, just a few seconds, just...surely even he deserved that much--to look his fill this one last time. Eiji was breathtaking.

So he followed. He watched as Eiji hugged his companion. His sister, Ash thought. He could see the vague resemblance. And she had laughed and nudged and teased Eiji in a highly familiar way. Eiji was tense, careful, and his smile was slightly forced, but the way he squeezed her arm before she skipped away to join a group of girls proved he had people here that he could reach out to. So many people loved Eiji.

Ash wanted it to make him feel better. But it didn’t. ‘Selfish,’ he thought. ‘You want him to need you, want  _ you _ . But he doesn’t. He shouldn’t, and you know that.’

“My soul will always be with you.” He could hear perfectly the way Eiji would say those words, a soft smile on his lips, a sparkle in his eyes. Eiji saw his value. Loved him. He had given him the most amazing gift he could imagine. Let it be enough. He could only give Eiji the freedom he had craved for himself as long as he could remember. His love had nearly gotten him killed. His love was the reason his smile didn’t reach all the way to his eyes. 

Ash closed his eyes, suddenly desperate to escape, to run. He hadn’t expected it to be this wonderful. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. He took a deep breath, forcing his body to still.

When he opened his eyes, Eiji was looking at him. His brow was furrowed, eyes bright and hands fisted. His cane lay on the ground at his feet. Ash felt the look sear into his soul. It burned through him, leaving him trembling, weak and desperate. He could hardly breathe as he stared back. 

Eiji’s face seemed to open like a flower beneath the sun. His eyes sparked and his cheeks rounded as his face split into a dazzling smile. He reached a hand out, stepping toward Ash.

And for just a second, Ash stood awash in joy and relief almost painful in its bright intensity. Then Eiji’s foot kicked his cane causing it to skitter and roll. He bent distractedly to grab it up, his movements slightly jerky as he favored his injury, clearly twinging at his hasty movement. 

And reality came crashing back down. 

The pain in Eiji’s face, the awkward movements--that was why he couldn’t be here. Ash used Eiji’s distraction to melt into the crowd and duck around a corner. He was shaking, too hot and too cold all at once. He had nearly been caught. He had so wanted to be caught. Stupid. Selfish. He needed to go.

He ducked into a cafe to hide behind a mug and a menu until he could get his heart rate under control. Eiji had looked so happy to see him. Eiji had wanted him here. Eiji had formed his name on those perfect, smiling lips. He could almost hear his voice whispering, although Ash knew the physics for that were actually impossible.

He shouldn’t have come here. He was shaking. Time was behaving strangely. It was good Izumo was safe, because he had no awareness of his surroundings or the people glancing his way on occasion. Hot tea sloshed over his fingers, but he didn’t feel it.

“It was him.” English. But more than that...Ash’s head snapped up at the voice. There at the cafe counter arguing with...was that Ibe? He had shaved. He looked younger without the beard.

“Eiji, it can’t have been. Just like it wasn’t him yesterday, and it wasn’t him last week.” Ash allowed himself a single, quick glimpse. Ibe gripped Eiji’s arm. The light glittered on a tear track down his cheek for a second before Eiji scrubbed his hand across it, wiping it away. 

“Eiji, Ash is dead.” Eiji shook his head stubbornly. “Max collected his ashes from the morgue weeks ago. He’s waiting for us to scatter them in Cape Cod. You know this.”

“I know what I saw. It was him, Ibe. I’m sure this time.”

“It wasn’t, Eiji. Didn’t you say this man you saw had dark hair and eyes? Didn’t you say he had piercings and glasses like Shorter?” Eiji nodded grudgingly, glaring down at his own hands. 

“So then he  _ reminded _ you or your friends. That’s all, Eiji. It was just a wish and a memory. Like that blond tourist, like that woman in the red jacket.” Ibe pinched the bridge of his nose, holding his peace as he fought his own strong emotions. His voice sounded thick when he spoke again. “He’s gone, Eiji. I’m sorry, but you have to let him go.”

“Ash didn’t leave me. He wouldn’t.” Eiji’s whisper was fierce, but his expression was broken. Ash felt sick. 

“We leave for New York on Saturday. Maybe after the funeral…” Ibe started.

“Maybe…” Eiji echoed. But his fists were still clutched tightly at his sides. And Ash knew that stubborn set to his jaw.

Ibe put a comforting hand on Eiji’s back. “Maybe we should skip the cafe? I can walk you home. Michiko can get home on her own.” Eiji paused, then nodded. 

Ash gave them thirty minutes to be out of sight before making his way out of the cafe and back toward the train and Blanca and his mission. Mascara be damned. He let the tears fall.


	5. Chapter 5

Infiltration of an international mafia stronghold should be more difficult than this. But mild mannered, nerdy Nemo Lyons didn’t really do much to draw attention. When pushed, most people could describe a guy with mousy brown hair whose glasses were always slipping down his nose. He stuttered when he was nervous and spoke with a mild lisp, something he insisted wasn’t a speech impediment but rather an accent because he had been born in America and lived there until he was seven.

Nemo didn’t like beer or wine and was so boring as to be utterly forgettable when he did put down his manga and deign to join the other data entry clerks at the bar down the street on a Friday evening. He would sip a glass of whiskey and leave most of it sitting on the bar when he made his excuses to go home early. He was generally good at his job, diligent and meticulous instead of talented. He worked late to meet deadlines. 

Once they had managed to get him to finish his drink. He had blinked at them owlishly before telling them about the time he spent a month in the Caribbean with his family and learned all there was to know about stingrays. Their eyes had glazed as he had talked for a solid fifteen minutes about the ecological niche bottomfeeders fulfilled. They did not notice the very deliberate parallels. After that night, they didn’t generally bother to try to get him to join them again. 

Nemo became essentially invisible. He was always around--somewhere. Nobody quite remembered where they’d last seen him. He went in and out of offices, checked computers, trouble-shot problems. He came to work early and left late. He was awkward around attractive women and powerful men. 

He listened to podcasts about marine biology during his lunch break.

He had his headphones in when Carlos came running into the staffroom white as a sheet and babbling about news upstairs. Evidently Francois Carbrone had been found dead in his office. It looked like he’d had a heart attack, but the place was in an uproar. Carbrone had been in charge of damage control for that Golzine mess in the states. Carlos had been called up to see what could be salvaged of his computer, which had evidently been smashed during his convulsions. 

“I didn’t see the body, man, but Estella, the secretary, right? She said he looked purple and his tongue was all swollen. And man, I hope he backed up his files, because not only did he smash that computer good, but evidently heart attacks make you barf or some shit. There ain’t much for me to get, and I ain’t touching most of it.” Carlos shuddered in disgust. 

Nemo smiled at his phone, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him. Carlos grinned, seeing the opportunity to pass off an unpleasant job to an unsuspecting coworker. “Hey buddy! Could you help me out a bit? You speak English, right?”

Ash forced a look of vague confusion to mask the feral grin that wanted to break out across his face. He marked a Salinger novel in his kindle as read, a message to Blanca of his success, before sighing and insisting that if he was going to touch something that had another person’s body fluids on it, he would need gloves. Four down. Twenty to go.

***

He made it almost six months before the nagging dread began to affect his ability to focus. The joy on Eiji’s face had become a curse as well as a blessing. Blanca’s insistence on leaving him alone was the only thing that kept Ash from dropping everything and running back, doing his best to erase the tone of voice he had heard in that cafe. “Ash wouldn’t leave me…” But he had. And it was killing him. Eiji had been hurting, out of touch with the reality of his world. Ibe had been concerned for him. 

He couldn’t leave it alone. Ash stole a credit card from an American tourist and bought a top of the line computer. Another tourist, this time from either New Zealand or Australia based on the accent, bought his modem and hardware to create his own surveillance hacks and customized firewall. He created an alias and used it as a mole within the Tong, tied to the Lee family connections. A cursory glance would hold. It made sense that the Lees watched those that they had had dealings with. Especially dealings that left five dead and one severely damaged. That alias then created a web persona, bounced through several routing stations on several continents but was ultimately trackable to a small internet cafe in downtown Beijing. 

That was risky. Major crime syndicates often relied on being somewhat unassailable. Blanca, however… Still, if he was found, there was another gap between his surveillance and the risk it posed to Eiji. He was tracking Banana Fish through Corsica. Blanca was handling Asia. Ash knew it was because he didn’t want him anywhere near Japan. Funny, that. 

Eiji had moved back to New York. He knew that much simply because he had long ago put remote access tracking bugs in the phones of his top lieutenants. He’d caught Alex talking about it on the phone to Max. At least Alex was looking out for him. Sing too, evidently. That made him feel a little better. 

And a little more bitter. 

Because Eiji’s safety had cost him everything. Everything. And he had tossed it aside to go back to New York. To spend time with gang bosses and guns. He knew Alex wouldn’t hurt him. Sing either, really. But they wouldn’t protect him like he would either.

He ached to touch him. Hold him.

He spent hours hacking into traffic cameras and store video surveillance, and--with some guilt--Eiji’s own internet connection and laptop camera. 

There were mostly still photos, some grainy video, but enough. Enough that for another six months, the snippets of Eiji’s face he’d get kept him sane. For months, Eiji had spent most nights looking through photos, tears on his face. Ash was grateful that he couldn’t hear the sound of his sobs. He watched, fingers gently caressing his own screen in a mockery of the comfort he wished to offer. He didn't look at the content. He knew what it was. He didn’t need to see. 

He hated that it felt good that Eiji missed him, mourned him. Watching him cry was terrible, but Ash knew a time would come when the tears stopped. He dreaded it as much as he hoped for it. Eiji would move on. Forget. And Ash would truly be nobody.

Eventually, he acquired a few files of a different sort, ones he should delete. It was inevitable, he supposed, that Eiji, even sad and lonely as he was, would also behave like any other twenty-one year old man who lived alone. But after six months of take-out dinners, and emails home and nightly visits with the ghosts in his photos, it caught him by surprise. Ash hadn’t meant to catch him logged onto a pornography site. He hadn’t watched, once he realized what he was seeing. He never watched the autorecodings his computer took each time Eiji logged onto his computer, not when they were tagged with that website. It made him feel gross, disgusting--evil-- to even know they existed. But he couldn’t bring himself to give up any moment where Eiji smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. So he didn’t delete them, either. 

When his resolve was at its weakest, he used their existence as proof that Eiji deserved someone who’s very soul wasn’t soiled. Someday, when he could trust himself to stay away, he would destroy the files. Until then they sat, a dark reminder that he was no better than the monsters he hunted. 

He made it a year. During that time, six more books had been marked read. A car accident took out two together, an assassination, an allergic reaction to shellfish, a drunken drowning, and his personal favorite, a murder by prostitute. 

Ash remembered this asshole. He had a thing for pretty blonds. And little boys. He made sure they were seen on camera entering a ritzy hotel, made sure the concierge knew he was a boy in drag. Made sure he put every special skill Golzine and Blanca had taught him to work. The bastard was found cuffed to the bed strangled by his own tie.

And after each loose end, each leak or report erased from data banks, each line of cash or information erased from records, each life erased from existence, Ash hung up the identity of Nemo Lyons and basked in the knowledge that the corruption of his soul, the death of what was left of humanity couldn’t touch Eiji. 

He watched the snapshots of a life led free of him. He watched as Sing grew, as Alex visited less and less, as Eiji’s art began to be noticed. He watched as Eiji, with splotchy cheeks and quivering lips emptied a file labeled Ash. Ash could see they were being downloaded, not deleted. It still felt like a betrayal. It was a goodbye.

He did his best to believe that it was a good thing. 

Eiji seemed to smile less now than he had two years ago. But without hearing his voice, seeing his face in full focus, he couldn’t be sure. Maybe he just didn’t get to see them, Eiji’s beautiful smiles. Maybe he wasn’t allowed any more. Watching Eiji, knowing he’d never touch him again, knowing that every night he spent smiling at a story Sing told or chatting with a woman from a gallery was a night he didn’t spend missing Ash, it was an exquisite form of torture. And Ash knew it was self-destructive. 

But as long as Eiji was safe, he could keep going. As long as Eiji was alive and whole and living, he could survive a little longer, go a little further, do what needed to be done. Eiji was grieving, but perhaps he was healing. Someday, Eiji would be unapologetically happy. Someday he would move on completely, and Ash would just be a boy he knew a long time ago. 

Ash clung to that belief like a child with a beloved teddy bear. It broke his heart, made it hard to breathe, to move. It burned like acid in his roiling stomach. And it gave him hope. If Eiji could be happy, then it didn’t matter that Ash’s spirit would never come clean.

Fourteen more. And then he could rest. Then he could...go.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a little thing. An apology email sent, begging off a small show opening featuring a few of his photographs. Eiji, it seemed, had been in a minor accident. No big deal, the email assured, just some bruises and the like. But it drove Ash mad. Eiji was hurt. Was it really an accident? Or had he made a mistake? Had his work been detected? Was someone after him?

He thought of calling Alex. Or Sing. Even Max. But the dead can’t make phone calls, and if it really was an accident--then he’d put them all in danger. 

His second was getting married. Rumor had it he’d knocked up his girlfriend and they’d decided to make a run of it as regular people. Eiji had smiled a truly genuine smile when he’d received the invitation. Ash had a feed watching the convenience store where Alex worked now. Sing’s guys guarded it. He didn’t think Alex knew.

Sing was working openly with Yut Lung, a complication if ever there was one. Yut Lung was good--good enough to out-maneuver him once before. And he knew about Banana Fish. He knew about Eiji. Ash wasn’t sure of Sing’s loyalty. Not really. Not now, after he’d buried his brother. Not now that things had become less hectic and he’d had time to really think about Shorter. Not now that Yut Lung was no longer his enemy.

And Sing visited Eiji regularly. 

And Max. The media was a powerful tool. But Michael was in fifth grade, old enough to be independent, out of a parent’s watchful eye, at least a little. He couldn’t make the boy a target. He was still so young. Since when did eleven seem young to Ash? It didn’t matter. Max wasn’t an option. Ash didn’t have many lines left these days that he didn’t cross. But endangering children was one of the few.

He needed to go to New York anyway. He needed to get his feet on the ground where the Corsican Foundation was rebuilding, be certain there were no surviving hard copies of anything, be sure the money wasn’t trackable, be sure…

He put in the request. Nemo spoke fluent English and was a hard worker with no family to deal with. He was ideal. 

Blanca was livid. He was angry enough to show up in Paris and demand a meeting. Over cafe au lait and croissants, he berated Ash for his stupidity. He couldn't go to New York. He would be recognized. He would undermine their work. Seven of the assassinations he had yet to accomplish were here in Europe. It was madness. His bland smile and vaguely bemused posture belied the fury snapping in his eyes. But Ash didn't budge. He would go. He would see. 

Nemo’s job was only meant to last six months after all.

***

It was the damned dog that almost gave him away. 

Ash had gotten quite good at hiding in plain sight. Bored to death of bland, beige Nemo, Ash dyed his hair acid green and spiked it. A chain now linked a nose ring to the ring in his lip and a cuff on his ear. Temporary tattoos marked his neck, his bicep and both hands. Contacts left his eyes bright yellow with cat’s eye slits in place of pupils. Obviously fake. But striking enough to avoid thoughts of jade green. He smiled fondly, remembering Shorter. He’d tried to dress Ash up like this years ago. The green was actually a nod to the memory. 

Nadia might remember it. No one else would. It had only lasted an hour or two beyond Shorter’s ameteur dye job before Golzine had had it stripped out of his hair. There was a scar on his scalp from the bleach. It had been worth it, though, for a day to be silly with a friend. 

Looking back, that had been the beginning. His first act of semi-successful rebellion. He had defied Golzine with green hair for Shorter. It seemed fitting that he would defy Blanca with it for Eiji. 

He had been frantic when his plane touched down. He’d forced himself to yawn, stumble. He had never felt more awake. Unfortunately, he wasn’t traveling alone. Carlos had been sent along too. He wasn’t a terrible man, though he worked for terrible people. Just like Ash. But his presence meant that he’d been unable to check up on Eiji or in with Blanca for the entire 9 hour flight. It also meant he couldn’t just abandon his bag and move to the apartment address he knew would allow him to set his mind at ease. He was jumpy, snappier than he should be with his cultivated ‘friendship.’ It was out of character, and he knew it. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was home. And Eiji was here somewhere. And he would see him soon.

He’d trained himself to ignore the ache. The excitement sang through his blood, wonderful and terrifying and totally out of control. He wondered if he could stab Carlos to be rid of him. A voice in his head that sounded like Eiji scolded him. When had stabbing people just for being inconvenient begun to feel like a reasonable thing? 

His overstimulated mind tried to argue back. He didn’t plan to kill him. He’d been stabbed enough to know how to do it to annoy rather than kill. Carlos wanted to be a big, scary mafioso…

But although Ash would melt out of view without a second thought, Nemo would call the cops. And with cops came reporters. Hell, it could bring Max out. He still tracked the Corsicans too, keeping vigilant in his own way. It was a complication he kept an eye on as a matter of course. Ash could picture it now. Blanca would kill him.

So he gritted his teeth until he got to the hotel where he promptly claimed to feel a migraine coming on. He closed the door to his room in Carlos’s face, turned on the shower to cover the sound of his brief and coded check in with Blanca, set off a small range electrical pulse to fry any cameras or bugs, and climbed out the window. Within minutes the mannerisms of Nemo Lyons melted off his body and he stretched back into himself. 

He pulled his hoodie over his hair and was off to St. Mark’s Place to hit up Search and Destroy for his new persona. Two hours and a visit to a poorly maintained bathroom in a run-down McDonald’s later, he emerged with a whole new look. The boots were heavy, not like his boring business casual loafers or his beloved chucks. But they gave him an extra three inches. 

The contacts itched. He didn’t care. 

***  
Eiji’s apartment was on the very edge of a respectable neighborhood. His persona would be notable but not immensely out of place. He needed to be noticed but not paid attention to. People skulking around in shadows and trying not to be seen are the wrong kind of noticeable. The kind people remembered. If someone noticed his hair or his piercings or his god-awful plaid pants, that would be all they’d remember. 

He’d need a name and identity, just in case. But it likely wouldn’t come up. He could hardly be Nemo, the boring programmer, and Ash Lynx was dead. He settled on Dare. Pronounced Dare, like the fun part of the party game, it sounded like the sort of nickname a green-haired punk would wear proudly. Pronounced properly… well. Dar-ay mo meant “nothing” in Japanese. It was fitting. It would remind him. He had 14 names left until oblivion. 

He watched hungrily as Eiji exited his apartment with a golden retriever on a leash. His hair was just long enough to pull back into a tiny ponytail. It looked silly. Ash smiled. 

His posture was a study in disinterest. He leaned against the wall of a building across the street and a little down the block. His attention was ostensibly on the phone in his hand. He refused to allow even a hint of his intense focus to show in his posture. His shoulders were loose, his legs crossed, weight off center. Every cell was trained on the man and his dog coming down the street toward him. 

Whatever injury he had suffered had long since healed. Eiji walked comfortably. That was good. The dog was cute, energetic in a way that had Eiji smiling. Ash allowed himself a single stolen picture. He heard Eiji laugh. It was more lovely than church bells.

He strained his ears, trying to make out the words Eiji said. His English had improved. Ash missed his accent. But he sounded fine. He sounded good. He sounded wonderfully exasperated with his animal. He sounded wonderful.

Ash was staring. He quickly flicked his eyes down. He couldn’t know that Eiji had claimed several of his flannels from the hideout. Couldn’t know that he kept them carefully, fiercely protecting the last vestiges of Ash’s scent. Couldn’t know that from the damned dog’s perspective he was a common, welcome scent. A friend. 

Until the dog lunged barking joyfully, yanking the leash from Eiji’s hand, and bolting across the street. He jumped up, trying to lick Ash’s face, knocking him off balance and causing him to drop his phone. Thankfully he didn’t dislodge the gun Ash carried. Ash wondered if Eiji would recognize his preferred pistol.

“I’m so sorry!” Then Eiji was there. He wasn’t focused on Ash, not even really looking at him. “Buddy, down!” But he was within touching distance. Ash could smell the scent of tea on him, feel his warmth. 

Ash couldn’t move. He stood frozen, rooted in place. Oh Eiji. He twitched a shaking hand. Pulled it back.

“Don’t worry, sir. Um...he is usually much better behaved. But he’s friendly. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Eiji yanked the dog’s collar. “Buddy!” Eiji was looking at him. He was still distracted for the moment, but Ash could see his eyes trace his face, noticing small details he could put together later.

“It, uh it’s ok.” Ash’s voice was harsh, forced past the enormous lump in his throat. It didn’t sound like him. Not really. Still, he forced a slight lilt into his tone, the accent Golzine had spent a fortune training out of him. “Just a bit, startled is all. No harm done. He, uh. He probably smells my cat.”

Lame. But Eiji was nodding like it made sense, hauling the dog backward. And then he was holding out his hand. “Eiji Okumura. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh. Dare. You can call me Dare.” Thank god he’d planned ahead. His mind was a complete blank. Warm fingers grasped his soft but strong. He’d lost the last of his callouses. 

“I’m glad to meet you Dare. Are you new to the area?” Ash flinched. 

Eiji noticed, immediately backpedaled. The look, the act. Eiji probably recognized a gang member on a stake-out or recon assignment. Ash did his best to mimic the way Shorter used to hold his body. 

Eiji was smiling at him, talking to him. He could die right here and be happy about it. Two years of horror fell away at the touch of those fingers. Buddy lept again, licking his chin. It broke the momentary suspense and let him breathe again.

Eiji smiled a little awkwardly but kept going. Just like him. “So you have a cat? What’s his name?”

“Uh. His name? Yeah, um.” Genius my ass. “I usually just call him cat, I guess. But his name is uh, Short-s, Shorts. Because it’s got little short legs.”

“He sounds adorable.” Eiji grinned. “This impolite monster is Buddy.” He yanked the dog back again. “I’m sorry again for him startling you. Is your phone ok?”

“Phone? Oh right.” Ash bent to grab the phone he had dropped. The screen was cracked at the corner. No big deal. “It’s ok. No harm done.”

“Great! Well, I better get a move on, evidently Buddy really needs to walk off some energy tonight. Nice to meet you, Dare.” And he was gone, looking back over his shoulder twice, three times before he turned into the park and disappeared from view.


	7. Chapter 7

He was careful to attend to his mission. This close to Eiji, the pressure to keep him safe, to eliminate any and all darkness from his life was overwhelming. Eiji was still kind and beautiful. He still deserved freedom and security. 

He ignored the cognitive dissonance when he broke into Eiji’s apartment while he was at work to place a bug in his living room. It was only to be sure, to know if he needed him. It was just to keep an eye on Sing. He was affiliated with Eiji’s former kidnapper. He posed a danger… Ash knew he was lying to himself. He knew he had crossed several lines. He told himself it didn’t matter. He didn’t record anything. And Eiji would never know. Was it really a betrayal if it couldn’t hurt him?

Ash could see Blanca’s look. Eiji’s too. 

Well, they needed him to be a monster.

He was ruthless in his data elimination. On his home turf, he was able to create notes and entries referencing real events and spinning them as delusion. He tipped gang bosses he still knew of and sat back as they took out the last of Arthur’s traitors. He felt bad, but Sing lost a few as well. Any that talked too much about the “Japanese boy” or how “Lao died a hero,” were caught up in the crossfire.

He even hired a different assassin to take out one of his targets in Europe while he was gone. It made a beautiful sort of symmetry to spend the money he’d stolen from the Corsican Foundation to hire someone to kill one of them. His target was carefully selected--someone who made enemies and had difficulty keeping his mouth shut. He may not have needed to bother with that one. Too much more trouble and the Foundation would likely have taken him out themselves. But his demise made certain the unexplained deaths didn’t stop when Nemo left Europe. And his computer had had seventeen references to Banana Fish when Ash had checked it. So after wiping them out, Ash made sure his elimination happened. Thirteen left.

To avoid explaining why his socially awkward persona didn’t cling to his familiar workmates at all, he created a girlfriend for Nemo, built her personality from bits and bobs of his old gang. He named her Nadia. Unusual, but not rare. Plus if he was ever in a bind, he’d know what she would say or how she’d react. He’d approached an average looking girl in his Dare guise and asked to take her picture because she was beautiful. He still knew how to turn on the charm when it suited him. It was perfect, blushing, slightly uncomfortable, hand half-way to blocking the lens. People wanted to see pictures of girl-friends. He took a couple of pictures. 

Carlos was more nosy than most, and a tech expert as well. He made it his phone’s lock screen and added a birthday to his calendar. It wasn’t difficult to attach her face to other women with similar builds in different outfits, different locations. He downloaded them back to his phone. He slogged his way through four different romance novels and cobbled together a Nemo-appropriately awkward text history with a cheap, reloadable phone he bought at a corner store. She was listed in his phone as Didi. He created a call history too. Short calls interspersed with longer, lingering calls always timed late at night. It was easy enough to call one phone with the other and just let them sit. He made certain neither phone had GPS enabled, and even if someone checked--and they wouldn’t--signals from the same tower made sense because his imaginary girlfriend lived across from his new apartment building.

It was easy enough to present a smug but obviously embarrassed visage at work. Mousy, backward little Nemo was getting laid! Carlos patted him on the back and made a few rude jokes. He had only to imagine those sly suggestions applying to a certain sad Japanese photographer to make his blush natural. 

Smudged, poorly removed mascara mimicked sleepless eyebags pretty well. And maybe he wasn’t sleeping as much as he should either. The work was still getting done. His check-ins with Blanca still happened on time. And Nadia gave him the time he needed to watch. 

And he had been watching. A taste, once allowed, had become instantly addicting. And now he found himself outside Eiji’s apartment at least three nights a week. The hair dye situation had been managed, finally by finding wash in dye. The color wasn’t quite right for either Dare or Nemo. But most people didn’t notice details that small. And this way his hair wouldn’t just fall out. He got an undercut just to have less hair to deal with. 

He had seen Eiji notice it--a tiny widening of his eyes, a very slight blush. It felt… confusing. Because on one hand, Eiji clearly found him attractive. But on the other, did this mean he was finally moving on? Was he looking at others with an eye for romance, or maybe only sex? What would he do if Eiji brought someone home with him? He tried to tell himself that as long as Eiji was happy, that was all that mattered. He reminded himself that Dare could not, absolutely not UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, hit on Eiji, indulge in a kiss or a grope or a meaningless one night stand. He certainly couldnt court him, learn to cook for him, give him sleepy hugs in the morning...Ash wasn’t stupid enough or far enough gone to think that was acceptable. But his dreams had ideas of their own, and it was hard to avoid thinking about just how much he wanted after experiencing it in technicolor in his sleep.

He got a cat. Eiji had spoken to him twice more, and both times he’d asked after Shorts. He hated lying to Eiji. And it was nice to have something warm and alive that relied on him. He missed his gang almost as much as he missed Eiji. And Shorts wasn’t all bad. It was nice when she curled up on his lap or slept on his head. The beast was as loud as her namesake, and just as likely to draw blood if you pissed her off. It made him smile every time the tiny gray ball of fluff and attitude hissed.

He took some pictures. Shorts could be Nadia’s cat. He started leaving Nemo’s sweaters out for her to sleep on. So far the stupid animal preferred the leather jacket. That made him smile too.

***  
Tonight Eiji had not been home when he arrived. No matter. He took up residence on a bench in the park nearby. Sometimes Eiji walked Buddy in the park. And sometimes he came to take pictures. It gave him a chance to really see him live. He cherished it. And while he waited, the tablet he carried allowed him to continue his work. Afterall, before he went back to Europe, he had a senator to assassinate. It wasn’t something that you did without careful groundwork.

He smiled as he checked his kindle app. Two more books had marked as read. A Chinese author and a Japanese poet. Blanca was hard at work too then.

A text from Uncle Sergio mentioned that he’d be in the area in a few weeks and asked for a guide to the local sights. He set a meeting site--The Smithsonian Air and Space Museum and a cafe suggestion, something Carlos had mentioned. He gritted his teeth as he referred to the idiot as his good friend from work. It wasn’t easy channeling Nemo’s personality while wearing Dare’s persona.

He didn’t consciously notice the change in the air, but he had survived on these streets, and he knew something had shifted. He scanned the surrounding area, eyes flicking over paths and areas of vegetation. There. A group of three young brats had accosted someone. Was that--? He stood abruptly, not even deciding to move before he did. Gun in hand, he dropped two of the thugs accosting Eiji as he approached. Rage filled him, pure and unfiltered. It burned away grief and loneliness and despair and frustration until it was all that was left, vibrating in its glorious clarity.

His foot connected with thug number three’s jaw, snapping his head back. Ash grabbed his hair. 

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” he hissed. “You. Do. Not. Touch. Him.” He shook the dazed looking teen. He couldn’t be more than sixteen. Still, Ash knew intimately how dangerous a sixteen year old could be. At sixteen he had been Golzine’s enforcer. At sixteen Shorter had been in for murder. Sixteen meant nothing.

“What the hell, you fuckin’ prick?” thug number three spat.

“Did I stutter? You don’t touch him. You never, fucking touch him. Eiji Okumura is off limits.” Ash punched the struggling teen, hard and right in the kidney. “He is under my protection. Do you understand?” 

The kid gulped. But he didn’t back down. “Who the fuck are you? This is Coyote’s territory. Ain’t no room for a dog like you,” he spat. Some part of Ash, hidden deep in the back of his mind, kinda respected the brat. In another lifetime, he’d have welcomed a clear thinker like him into his gang. That was a very, very long time ago.

He drew the knife from his pocket, flipping it open and setting the blade at the kid’s eyebrow. “Who am I? I’m nobody.” His voice was deadly calm, cold. Some enforcers laughed and joked. Ash never had. He had relied on pure ice for intimidation. It worked. Extremely well. “Just like in the story, Polyphemus.”

“Poly-what? The fuck you on about man? Are you crazy? I ain’t no poly-whatever-you said.” Blood was beginning to drip into his eye. Ash could feel him shaking.

“Polyphemus--from the old myth. If I am nobody, then you must be him.” He dragged the knife downward, slicing deep. He grinned. “No man has hurt you. No man has blinded you.” His hand was steady. “I don’t give a Shit about Coyote or any other goddamned boss who thinks he’s in charge. Eiji Okumura is protected.” He dropped the now sobbing boy. “Tell them Odysseus says so.”

He watched the kid impassively for a moment, letting him collect himself, reassuring himself that he had heard the message, would pass it on, before barking “Go!”

He heard a choking gag behind him and turned at once. Eiji was on his knees in the grass. The blind rage bled away, leaving a vague, sick revulsion in its wake. He stepped forward, hand out. “Eiji? Are, are you ok?” 

Eiji scrambled away from him, scampering on all fours to gain distance before standing and backing away. His face was filled with fear and horror. Eyes flicking between the befouled knife in his hand and the droplets of blood staining the pavement. “Y,you-- Who? I--”

Ash reached his clean hand forward tentatively. The urge to hug him, hold him, comfort him was overwhelming.

“D,don’t touch me!” Eiji screeched. “I. You. Leave me alone!” He turned and ran.

Ash managed not to follow. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to no one. There were sirens in the distance. Someone had likely alerted the cops at the sound of the gunshots. He wiped his blade in the grass and turned away. 

Later that night, he listened in with churning stomach and clenched hands as Eiji’s frightened voice told Sing what happened. “I’ve seen him around, Sing. A lot. I know I should have told you. I knew it was suspicious. I’m not stupid. But… he’s so much like him. The way he moves, the shape of his jaw, even his voice. And I know it’s dumb. Ok. I know it’s not him. I know that. You don’t have to tell me again. Ash would never have been so, so out of control, so cruel. I just wanted...” Oh god, that was a sniffle. Eiji was crying. Eiji was crying, and it was his fault. Again.

Sing’s voice continued. “You know, Ash would have loved the reference. He used to read those old stories to Griffin. Bones told me about it. He’d read when Griffin got agitated. It always calmed him down. Shorter told us a few he liked. There was one about this super strong dude that cleaned shit out of a horse stable by moving a river.”

Eiji gave a watery laugh. “I can imagine. The feared gang boss reading bedtime stories.” 

“Heh. You know, maybe this Dare kid-- Maybe he knew that story because of Ash. Maybe that means there’s bits and pieces of him still out there, Eiji. Maybe that’s what you saw.”

“Maybe.” There was a beat of silence. “It couldn’t have been--”

“No. No, Eiji, it couldn’t have been him. I’m sorry Eiji, but Ash is dead.” 

A sob, hard and guttural and utterly anguished.

“Hey, hey now. Hush, Shhh.” Sing sounded like he might be crying too. “Are you gonna be ok?”

“I think I’m going crazy, Sing. I feel like my every move is being watched. I feel eyes on me all the time. And, and I trusted some random street punk because some part of me saw… I’m so stupid. And I miss him so much. I wanted Dare to be him. I wanted it so much, I tried to make it true. Why did he leave me, Sing? I’m here, in his home, surrounded by him every day. The godawful smell of hotdogs and the sound of the traffic. And this place. I hear gunshots at night sometimes. And… and it makes me feel safe. How dumb is that? But guns--guns meant Ash, and Ash meant safety. I want, no I need, to be near him. To … I don’t know. And I don’t think I can keep doing this, Sing. How do I keep doing this?” Another choked cry. “I can’t even look at the library.”

Sing’s voice then, “Come here, Eiji. I’m not Ash, but I give an ok hug. Come here. I miss him too.” There was a rustling. 

Tears streamed down Ash’s face as he listened to muffled sobs and whispered comfort. This was wrong. How had he not seen it? How had he justified this type of invasion to himself? He didn’t know anymore. Eiji sensed it. And even if he hadn’t…

Ash understood what he meant about feeling insane. He had thought watching Eiji was helping him to keep his humanity. It suddenly became clear just how wrong he was. He felt sick. He had forced himself to become as much like Blanca as he could bear--for the mission. For the people he loved. But this--this wasn’t like Blanca. 

A balding head, bulging eyes, bristled gray mustache--Papa Dino’s face swam into his mind’s eye, hundreds of photos, thousands of moments captured. Every single one justified, for his pleasure, for his business, for his protection. Bile burned up the back of his throat. As he hunched over his trash can coughing violently, he heard Eiji’s voice, muffled but understandable, whisper “Am I wrong, Sing? I was so sure, but maybe… maybe he left because he doesn’t love me afterall.”

Sing answered, but Ash didn’t hear it. He heard nothing but the pounding rush of his own heart beating in his ears. By the time he had pushed through to a place where he was capable of any kind of meaningful thought, Eiji’s apartment was silent. Empty both of stomach contents and emotions, Ash slowly and carefully disconnected every single piece of surveillance. He noted his shaking hands, but couldn’t connect any feeling to them. He had to set Eiji free. When he was done, he lay on his floor. He could hear his own sobs, but like his hands, the sensation felt far away.

He woke up the next day to Shorts chewing his hair.

He didn’t have to fake the groan or the stuffiness in his call to Carlos the next morning. Nemo’s mousy, accented voice whimpered as he said something about food poisoning or perhaps some terrible stomach bug. He remembered Carlos’s squeamishness when Cabrone had died. Ash faked a retching sound before dumping a cup of water into the filled sink basin. People forgot the liquidy splash when faking sick. But the details mattered. Carlos was clearly disgusted. It made him easy to push away. He was eager to end the call.

Ash spent the day in bed. He felt weak, sick and disgusted with himself. At dusk, he forced himself up. He fed the cat and then sat holding a mug of microwavable soup as it cooled and staring at the remains of his careful surveillance system. 

His mind played him the same image over and over, superimposed it on the evidence of just how far he had allowed himself to go. Eiji had stared at him in real fear. He had backed away in terror from what he had become. 

Eiji was well and truly lost to him.

He had thought it would hurt more than it did. But it mostly felt empty. And very very cold.

Thirteen more. And then he was done.


	8. Chapter 8

It was easier than it should have been. He’d planted the rumors and the evidence that Golzine had stolen the money over a year ago. He simply let it be known that it had been gifted to him, Ash Lynx. His protege. His successor. His toy. And he was now stepping into the light to claim his rightful place. He was throwing a party. The most important members of the US branch of the Corsican foundation were all invited. Two who had had dealings with Golzine in the past were flying in from Europe. A few select dignitaries of the US military complex were attending as well. Even one or two dirty senators, the ones that Ash remembered liking children as well as the ones that might have known something.

Nemo Lyons quit his job. He was running away with Nadia. Getting married! It was very exciting. He smiled sheepishly as Carlos hugged him, blushed red at his jokes about a wedding night. He apologized that he was leaving his work undone, shuffled his feet and offered to leave a number to call if they needed his help.

He ignored the messages from Blanca. 

The party would be over before he got here. Nine more books to mark read. Nine more steps toward the end of his contract. Nine more lives. 

He wondered idly if he should feel something about that. He was planning on killing an entire room full of people. Significantly more than nine. They all deserved it. They were rapists and collaborators, pedofiles and profiteers, even if they weren’t tied specifically to Banana Fish. He was under no illusions. This act couldn’t fix the world, wouldn’t even be a drop in the sea and the ever growing tidal wave of evil. He no longer considered himself separate, if he ever really had. He was a part of that evil now, all the way to his core. And he felt nothing.

Maybe he should. “Should” died with the fear in Eiji’s eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d held out hope until it was gone. All he had left was purpose. It wasn’t enough.

He wondered if he should partake in his own poisoned feast. But there were still four names. Four books. Four lives left. Only four. And then Eiji would be safe. From Corsica. From Blanca. From Ash.

***  
His smile was cold, his eyes flat in the mirror as he tied his bowtie. He had personally dosed the stems of the glasses as well as the champagne. Even those smart enough to avoid consuming what he gave them would raise their glass in the toast. Absorbed through the skin, the toxin wasn’t particularly fast acting. It would take nearly thirty minutes for symptoms to begin. Perhaps an hour before they were all dead. He had 8 bullets, just in case anyone thought to linger. 

He pulled on his expensive leather driving gloves and arrived at the venue. He greeted people, complimented them on their attire, their latest accomplishments. He mingled. He smiled. Golzine had created this image, this carved mockery of a human being. He was perfect. Everything the bastard had wanted. 

They had all come to gauge him, likely to kill him, if they could. Certainly to manipulate him, gain control. Within an hour he had them eating out of his hand. He was smart, charismatic, and clearly ruthless. He spoke with a bemused and pitying smirk about his late benefactor, letting it be known that he thought the old man a doddering fool without ever speaking ill of him. It was clear that Golzine had been a patsy, controlled by this remarkable young man.

For once, he held nothing back, allowed his brilliance and skill to shine. He never threatened, never raised his voice or said anything even vaguely aggressive. Yet every man in the room knew that he could destroy their lives, and that he would do so without changing his pleasant expression. 

These men would follow him. 

He smiled as they lifted their glasses to him. It was a cold smile, a viper’s smile. His eyes remained diamond hard, sparking like flint against steel. Oh yes. These powerful men in their important positions would joyfully stuff him back into a gilded cage and follow his orders so long as they brought profit, protection, and power. Too bad for them he had only a single order. To die. 

He dismissed the waitstaff when the coughing started. He smiled and tipped well. Said the meeting was classified. Nodded to the recognizable members of the government. They left richer for a half night’s work and excited to have been a part of something important. 

Ash sealed the doors. He watched impassively as men began to struggle and to fall. Part of him was horrified, squirming in revulsion. It wore Eiji’s face. Or Shorter’s. Max. Skip. Sing...Griffin. 

When the last man collapsed, he left. He hadn’t even needed to fire his gun. When he had traveled far enough, he detonated the simple ignition on a small, nearly undetectable incendiary device he’d placed near the gas line he had sabotaged the night before. 

He pulled out Nadia’s phone and used it to call 911. He heard an explosion. He saw fire. He didn’t know what was happening. Should he try to go see? Are they sure?

He hung up. He tossed the phone into the East River.

And just like that, it was done. The phone was gone, the building destroyed. The fire would burn away any trace of the toxin. The sprinklers worked just fine, but the explosion was strong enough to knock people out, to disorient them. He had never ordered a plate for himself, nor enough seating. When the bodies were found, the correct number would be there. 

The first rule of assassination was never leave behind any traces.

Ash tried to be pleased with his latest death. This made four at least. Maybe he really did have nine lives, like a cat. 

The next day, he celebrated with hot dogs in Bryant Park. He missed his seat in the library, missed the hours he had spent lost in the peace of the place, the freedom to live other lives, be other people. But he knew why he had to give it up. He looked up at his old sanctuary, and the longing hit him so hard he physically staggered. 

Maybe. Thousands of people visited the library after all. His feet started moving toward the steps. Could he salvage any of who he had tried so hard to become? 

He heard his voice before he turned the corner. Max. He was nattering away about photography with a young boy. Ash yanked his hoodie over his hair, stepped behind the lions, into the shadows. Michael had gotten taller, gained that gangly growth that hit young boys at the edge of childhood. 

“If you want it to be a surprise for Mom, why not ask Eiji to show you?”

Ash held his breath. He hadn’t sought this out. But he was sure as hell too weak to turn away from it now. 

“I thought you said Eiji was sick, Pops.” Michael sounded concerned. 

Eiji was sick? Ash wasn’t as numb as he had tried to believe. It hurt like a punch to the gut. 

“Yeah, uh. About that.” Max stopped walking, hesitated. Ash held his breath. That was Max’s guilty voice. What the fuck did Max feel guilty about? He forced himself to be still. “Do you remember Ash, Eiji’s friend?”

“The blond guy? The one who came with you to save Mom?” Michael seemed to perk up. “Yeah. He was awesome. He was so strong and brave. He- He made me feel safe. And he made Mom feel better too.” Michael scuffed his toe in the dirt. “He was kinda like a hero. Like he-- I didn’t understand then, but I know what they did to Mom. He did too. And he-- He made me feel...protected, like the bad men weren’t even allowed if he was around.”

This didn’t hurt like a punch. This burned. Max wrapped his arm around his son’s shoulders. He’d done that to Ash too, once upon a time. A hero? He wondered what Michael would say, what Max would say if he knew that Ash had just murdered a banquet full of people in premeditated cold blood. Would he be angry? Would he look at him with the same fear Eiji had? He certainly wouldn’t hug him, ruffle his hair, call him son...

Before Ash could spiral into his thoughts completely, Max loosened his hug. “Yeah. Yeah, he made a lot of people feel safe, kiddo. He was good like that.” Max cleared his throat. “Eiji is still, he’s not, he’s having a hard time handling how Ash died, that Ash died.” 

“Is he ok?” Michael’s voice held real concern, not the tone of a kid hoping an adult would leave them out of whatever icky grown-up thing they were doing.

“Uh. Yeah. Mostly. But see, there was this kid, right? He was clearly in a gang, like, well like Ash had been. And Eiji liked him. I guess they bonded over pet ownership or something. Anyway, this kid, he stopped some guys from mugging Eiji.” 

Michael paled. Max hurried to continue, “Eiji’s ok, but that night, I guess he uh, he had a hard time coping with everything. Like Mom does sometimes.” He paused and Michael nodded. So Jessica still had nightmares, maybe flashbacks. Ash hadn’t known. “Anyway, he, Eiji that is, not the kid, well, he feels like he reacted badly, like he scared the kid or something. I mean you know how he is. Heart of gold and no goddamned common sense.” Thankfully neither of them noticed Ash’s snort.

“I’m gonna tell Mom you swore.”

“You do, and we’re quits. No more secret ice cream runs.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

Max laughed. “Try me.”

Shut up about ice cream and tell me what’s wrong with Eiji! Ash wanted to scream. 

“But what about Eiji, Pops?”

THANK YOU, Ash breathed.

“He just needed some time to feel better. He hasn’t seen the kid around since then, and he was worried. He was having a hard time, thinking maybe the kid got hurt because he ran away. It uh, seemed like maybe he was supposed to be keeping an eye on Eiji.”

“I thought you said that stuff was over.” Michael sounded accusatory. And scared.

“It is. It is. But Eiji knew a lot of guys. And they liked him. And maybe one of them, they sent this kid to keep an eye on him. Maybe as a tribute to Ash, or maybe just because they wanted him to be safe. But just in case, you see a kid with yellow eyes and a green mohawk, you steer clear, ok? Just in case.” Max shook his head. “I’m not sure you’re really old enough to be hearing this, but I know, uh that is Sing said--he hated being treated like a little kid, hated knowing bad things were happening and no one would tell him the truth. So, I’m trying to be honest.”

“Thanks.” He sounded like he meant it. Ash couldn’t remember anyone ever talking to him like that as a kid. Maybe Griff. Maybe Blanca. Maybe.

“I think Eiji could use the distraction. And he’s an excellent photographer. You should have him show you.”

“I will.” Michael walked down two steps, three. “Dad?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“I’m sorry your friend died. I liked him. And I’m sorry Eiji is so sad. Is it because he loved him so much?”

“Yeah.” Max sounded a little choked up. “Yeah, he did. He still does.” He passed a hand over his face. “C’mon kid. Let’s go get something fried and covered in sugar. It’s getting late. We’re gonna run out of time to ruin your dinner.”

It took Ash a long time to walk away from the library.


	9. Chapter 9

After the party, Ash was at a loss. He was cut adrift from anything resembling a purpose. He had no work. He couldn’t leave the states until after Blanca’s visit. Nemo was no longer an identity available to him. He couldn’t say he was sorry. But it meant he had nothing to do. He’d checked and rechecked the records before he’d sent poor, pathetic Nemo on his imaginary romantic adventure. The history was scrubbed as clean as he was capable of making it.

He couldn’t pass the time watching Eiji, couldn’t soothe himself with glimpses, couldn’t trust himself. He was there, just across town. But he couldn’t risk even walking down the street in his neighborhood.

He had no gang to watch out for. No one needed him. No one had a reasonable call upon his time. They were all here--Max, Sing, Alex, Eiji...and he couldn’t speak to any of them. Couldn’t help them. Couldn’t protect them.

If they saw what he had finally allowed himself to become, they would all hate him. 

He hardly slept. And when he did, his dreams were haunted. Eiji’s terrified eyes watched him. His choked voice wondering if Ash ever really loved him. He heard the gasping breaths of a roomful of dying men. Even Shorter, begging for death, and Skip, eyes wide with pain and betrayal visited him.

Everyone he had hurt, killed, sullied… destroyed. They all tormented his sleep. And there was no one to comfort him when he awoke gasping.

Without even sleep to retreat into, Ash was becoming almost frenzied. His body felt numb, overly heavy, but his stomach burned. He was desperate to find a way to feel something. Or maybe to stop feeling completely. He wasn’t sure, couldn’t think straight. This benumbed limbo was driving him mad. More than once he found himself with his own gun at his temple.

Four. Only four.

Ash dyed his hair black. It was a half-assed obvious dye job. But he couldn’t be bothered to care. He went out into the worst neighborhoods, looking for a fight. He found plenty. His knuckles were bruised and bleeding daily. The gash on his ribs should probably have been stitched. His reactions were sluggish, his punches too hard, too jaring. One of his fingers might be broken.

He bought expensive liquor, drank it, replaced it with cheaper, stronger booze. He could smell it constantly, not just on his breath but on his skin, seeping from his pores. It made it harder to eat, harder to keep anything substantial down. But sometimes it helped him sleep.

He decorated his body with make-up or leather or lace and visited bars and clubs, went home with whoever offered. Men, women, groups. It didn’t matter as long as the sensation was enough to forget for a little while. Hands and mouths and faces blurring together in his alcohol haze.

But it wasn’t enough. Nothing stopped Dino’s voice in his mind, telling him how proud he was of what he had become. He drank too much, fought too much, fucked too much. But nothing touched the gaping chasm in his soul. He wished fervently that Blanca had just let him die. 

He prayed Eiji’s soul was no longer with him. It didn’t deserve to be dragged through the muck. It deserved to be free to fly.

He had wanted to help them, save them. Prove he could be more than a whore. Better than a murder or a pet for a freak like Golzine. He had truly thought if he was smart enough, fought hard enough… He had only gotten them hurt. Skipper. Jessica. Shorter. Jennifer. Even little Michael. Horror after horror. And all of it was his fault. Eiji was having trouble coping. That was his fault too. 

He rolled out of the bed, careful not to wake its other occupant. It reeked of cheap liquor and sex. His head throbbed as the room spun for a moment. He was queasy, but he’d manage. He threw on his pants, grabbing shoes and shirt on his way out the door. He didn’t bother looking for his underwear. A woman in the hallway asked him a question as he left the building. He didn’t bother to respond.

He made his way toward the condemned apartment he was staying in. He’d need to eat something today. Maybe shower. It seemed like an enormous effort. He could buy a few books for Alex’s baby, leave them anonymously at the store, he promised himself. If he just ate something and slept for a few hours first.

Surely a few picture books couldn’t hurt. Surely he could do that much.

Maybe he’d get an illustrated book of Greek Myths. Alex had liked those stories as much as Shorter. It helped, a little. Shined enough light on him to make a stop at the market for some canned soup and shampoo something he could just manage. 

***  
His neighborhood seemed subdued. The other parts of the city were already bustling in these first hours after dawn, but here, people were mostly indoors. A few children played on street corners and an occasional person walked past with grocery bags or something similar, but the businesses were closed, their windows barred. The sidewalk cafes of the nicer areas he had become accustomed to simply didn’t exist. Instead there was a single mini-mart that sold overpriced poor quality merchandise. It would do, though. He left the tiny, grungy shop with three cans of soup and a bottle of cheap, strawberry scented shampoo.

Eiji hated the smell of fake strawberries. 

He dreaded the empty room filled with his thoughts. But between the physical exhaustion and the hangover, he thought it might just be possible to sleep. He’d eat the soup first. It would be fine cold, he decided. No need to make anything take more effort than absolutely necessary.

He opened the door, not bothering to check for danger, barely reacting to the sound of a gun cocking. 

“You look like hell.” Blanca sat, cool and calm on the rickety chair that was his only piece of actual furniture. He was early.

“Shoot me, or shut up,” Ash growled. He walked forward slowly as his thoughts screamed in his head, a loop of betrayed and frightened voices. ‘Don’t touch me...am I going crazy?...Eiji is having a hard time...I’m sorry your friend died...maybe he didn’t love me...why did he leave?...I made you...’ He didn’t stop until Blanca’s gun was pressed firmly against his sternum. His body trembled, but his eyes were flint-hard. “Well?”

Blanca wrinkled his nose but disengaged the gun and put it away. “Sit down before you fall down.”

Ash sat on the floor. Dust puffed up from the ancient, threadbare rug. Shorts squirmed out from behind a cabinet and sauntered up, butting her head up against Ash’s knee. He rubbed the cat’s ears absentmindedly. He really wasn’t giving the poor thing the time and attention it deserved, but what was he supposed to do, let it starve?

His exhausted brain was focused on the cat. It was purring loudly, squirming under his hand. Blanca cleared his throat. He started in surprise, having completely forgotten the deadly assassin less than ten feet from him.

“What the hell happened, Ash?” Blanca wasn’t as composed as normal. He actually looked upset. That was rare, for him to show more than he intended. “Why did you engage those dumb thugs? You didn’t think they’d actually hurt him did you?”

Ash’s sluggish mind tried to process it, warn him of potential danger. There had to be some sort of trap here. He ignored it. At this point Blanca definitely wanted him more coherent and undamaged than he did. He blinked up at the giant of a man sitting in his filthy room with graffiti covered walls and a cracked window covered with newspaper. He scowled, trying to make sense of the question through his exhausted headache. “What thu--? You mean the guys that attacked Eiji?”

“I’d hardly call it an attack. At worst they threatened him. They might have taken his wallet if you hadn’t intervened, but it wouldn’t have gone beyond that. Certainly not far enough to involve two deaths, a maiming, and the creation of a brand-new New York urban legend.” Blanca glared. “Odysseus? Really, Ash?” Oh, he was pissed, Ash realized. “You scared him much more than they did.”

“I--I know.” The shame made him momentarily stupid, but even at his most dejected, Ash’s mind grabbed at mysteries, noticed details that didn’t fit. “Wait--how do you know?”

“We made a deal, Ash. I take a great deal of pride in meeting any obligation I accept. Your terms were quite clear. You do as I ask, and Eiji remains unharmed.” Blanca spoke slowly as though to a toddler or an imbecile. “I have no wish to harm him, Ash. I never did. And I have no wish to witness the destruction you would wreak upon the world should he be irrevocably damaged.” It almost sounded like compassion.

Ash blinked at him. “You-- how?”

“You didn’t make it easy. You’re too observant. I almost had you accosted before I realized it was you who was watching Eiji. And now that he’s on high alert, I’ve had to move my protection crew further away.” He sighed. “Ash, this is why I didn’t want you to come to New York. Too much of your old life is here waiting for you. I understand that you want--”

“Is he ok?” Ash interrupted. 

Blanca sighed, any attempt at neutral released on the exhale. “He’s rattled,” he snapped. “Sing has been staying with him. He’s a smart young man. A good companion for your,” the silence stretched a beat too far, “friend.”

“Sing’s a good kid.” Ash nodded. He heard Blanca loud and clear.

“The chance you took letting the rumor of Ash Lynx’s possible survival was foolish. Stupid.” Blanca sounded stern again. “Lucky for you, it worked. But your old friends are smart, and nosy. That reporter got wind of it, has started looking around. You need to leave New York, Ash. Sooner rather than later.”

Ash nodded. He hadn’t thought Max would still be looking almost three years later. The knowledge was doing something to his chest. It felt warm. But it also ached like an old bruise, like someone was squeezing something vital. He wanted to close his eyes, thought about just laying down on the squalid floor and refusing to move. “Four more.”

“Oh?”

“Four more, and then I’m done Blanca. For more targets to pay for my soul. That was also the deal.”

“I had hoped you would adjust. This role was made for a mind like yours, Ash. If only you could learn to let go of the things you couldn’t really have anyway.”

“I did, though. I had everything Blanca. And if I could go back--I’d hold it with everything I had. I don’t care anymore that it would have been selfish, probably disastrous. If I could go back, I’d love him for as long as he would let me. Here. In Japan. I’d kill or let my gun sink into the sea. Whatever he asked of me. He loved me, Blanca. And I didn’t understand it, didn’t deserve it, didn’t know how to accept it. But none of that matters. I should never have even thought about walking away from it. And now-- I don’t know how to live without it.” He didn’t know when the tears had started to fall. He half-heartedly scrubbed at them, sniffing. “I never even said good-bye. I never told him that, that I loved him too.”

Blanca looked at him in silence for a long time. “I see. I think I understand.”

“You do?”

“Sleep Ash. Get clean. Eat. And then, well then we’ll talk.”


	10. Chapter 10

When Ash awoke, it was to the smell of real food. Blanca handed him his cheap, fake-strawberry scented shampoo and a fluffy new towel without speaking. When he entered the bathroom, there was a bottle of water and a small dish holding a few painkillers next to the shower. A small space heater had made the room pleasantly warm instead of the biting cold he had been expecting.

Honestly, Ash had expected to be beaten, or at least threatened. Blanca had never been particularly cruel, certainly never unnecessarily so. But he had also never shown care or particular kindness. He was ruthless. Efficient. He knew how to survive. When you were with him, you learned it as well. There had been no room for care or softness.

Yet a warm bathroom and a clean towel were nothing but small kindnesses. Ash could have showered in the cold room, dried off with the ratty scrap of cloth he’d been planning to use. He could have drunk from the tap and powered through the headache.

Ash stood under the nearly hot water, unfocused eyes tracking the cracks in the chipped tile. It had been blue once. Now it was faded to a pale off-white, marked here and there with bright orange rust stains. Gray water pooled around his feet before slowly sinking through the drain, marking his body with rivulets of temporary hair dye and pinkish strawberry suds. He hadn’t been ready for kindness. He still wasn’t.

But his abused body was grateful, even if his disconsolate mind was not.

The clothes Blanca had set out for him were not Nemo clothes or Dare clothes. They were Ash clothes. Jeans. A black t-shirt. A red and gray flannel. It felt good to step back into himself after years playing the role of someone else. It soothed some of the more jagged places inside him. He padded barefoot back into his main room, toweling the last of the dripping water from his still muddy colored hair.

A second rickety chair and a folding table had been added to his living space. Blanca sat at the table, steaming bowel in his hand. He gestured with his chopsticks. “Nabeyaki Udon. A favorite of yours, I believe?”

Ash sat, inhaled the fragrant steam. Eiji used to make them Udon. The smell was comforting, even as the memory twinged. He lifted the disposable chopsticks next to his bowl and snapped them apart. He poked about in his soup, searching out a bit of boiled egg. It was good. After the first few bites, the knots in his stomach began to loosen. His nausea subsided. And within five or six bites, he began to realize just how hungry he truly was.

Blanca watched him eat. When he was sure Ash would take more than a few grudging bites, he set his own bowl aside. “You know, when Natasha died, I thought I would die too. Not in some grand fiery gesture, though I suppose I thought about that too. No. I literally thought the pain in my chest would kill me, that my heart was actually breaking.”

He looked off into the middle distance, not really taking in the peeling wallpaper or the cracked, graffiti covered plaster. “She was everything I am not--kind, excitable, gentle. I knew I shouldn’t love her, but I could no more stop myself than I could refuse to breathe. And the most incredible part is that she loved me.” A tiny smile tugged at his lips.

Ash kept eating, slowly, as he watched Blanca’s usually stoic face transform. “She was my one great rebellion. I had been selected, you see, from a young age to become a tool for my government. Of the thirty cultivated prodigies, only myself and one other would be considered a success. Most of my comrades failed to survive the training itself. Those that did, cracked in the real world. I did not. And so, I was not punished outright for my betrayal of my duty.”

His voice was bitter, filled with a quiet, agonized rage. “Instead they punished her. She was the redemption I was not allowed. I was a weapon. Weapons don’t get to fall in love.”

He made eye contact with Ash then. “When Golzine first asked me to meet you, I believed he was trying to create another me--a lab-created virtuoso. I had no interest in helping him. The world had no need of more fake genius. But you, Ash, you were the real thing. A diamond in the rough, but a diamond nonetheless. You needed to be cut, honed, shaped to fit the role that was being created for you. I couldn’t bear to see you destroyed. And so I agreed. I knew that in time, if you chose, you would surpass me. I was proud of you.”

It was Ash that looked away. “I never wanted that. I didn’t ask to be gifted. I never wanted power, unless it was the power to close my legs when I chose.”

“I know. I wanted you to survive, Ash. But I also wanted to keep you from my own pain. I am a man trained to see uncomfortable truths. Facts without varnish or pretty trim. And I knew, when we met again four years ago, that if you followed the path you had chosen, it would destroy you. Not because you weren’t strong enough. I’ve never doubted your strength.”

Ash snorted at that. He had learned, in the intervening years, but he wasn’t strong enough to take Blanca in a fight. He doubted he ever would be.

“Now Ash, don’t be rude. Finish your soup. Believe it or not, what I’m about to say is important.” His voice took on a chiding tone that almost reminded Ash of Max. But when he continued, it was in the same detached voice he had used from the beginning. “If you had remained with your Eiji, they would have taken him from you. Maybe he’s stronger than my Nat. Maybe. Maybe they wouldn’t have broken him. But the Lee’s or the Corsicans or the gangs--someone would have destroyed him. And that would have destroyed you.”

Ash glared but didn’t respond. He knew this. That was why he’d decided a peaceful death in his favorite place was the right decision. Why he had chosen a library rather than a hospital. He had chosen to let it end. Partly because what Blanca had told him was true. Eiji didn’t exist to be his salvation.

“I don’t want you destroyed, Ash. I would sooner smash a Ming vase or a Faberge Egg. You are unique. I admire the way you fight against the lot handed to you. I offered you a way out. I thought it was the best option, to let you live and still love, if only from afar. You turned me down, if you remember.”

“Would you do it, Blanca? If Natasha were alive, would you stay away? Would you live each day knowing she was hurting and it was your fault. Would you leave her alone, wondering if you ever loved her? Would you?” The acid in his voice could etch glass.

“No. At heart, I am a weak man. I chose to live. I let her die. You did not. Would not.” He looked at Ash. “Would you?”

“No. I would happily die if it meant he was free and safe and happy. I--I thought I could watch, that it would be enough. But it was making me, making me into the one thing I cannot let myself become. I--” Ash felt nauseous, felt the ghost of Papa Dino’s approval once again coat him in oily guilt and shame. “You won’t let me die. Blanca. And I don’t know how to live. So what do I do?”

“You say good-bye. I thought the hospital would be enough, but...I see now that it was not. Because you said good-bye expecting to die. And then you did not.”

“How?” Ash’s voice was sharp. “How does a dead man say goodbye? How?” He was shouting, nearly screaming in frustrated fury.

Blanca pulled a stained envelope out of his pocket. He set it gently on the table. Ash didn’t need to touch it to know what it was, what it said. He had every word memorized, could probably recreate the strokes of the pen. It was his letter, his lifeline. He snatched it from the table, clutching it to his chest.

“Write him a letter, Ash. Tell him what you need to say. Tell him, tell him whatever truths you think he needs from you. I won’t read it. I give you my word. I will deliver it to him.”

“You stay away from him, Blanca. You don’t touch him. We had a deal. You fucking stay away--”

“I turned down a contract on his life long before our deal. Hate me if you must, but remember I am on your side. The elimination of records, of those that could remember--that protects him just as it protects us. I will deliver your letter. And if you wish, I will allow you to watch.”

***  
My Dearest Eiji,  
I don’t know what the future will bring. I wish I did. But I never expected to make it this far. I know I would happily die for you. But sometimes I wonder, is it possible to live for you? Could it be that a man as broken as I am could someday know that kind of peace? I would like to think so.

You have been hurt because of me. You have been frightened and threatened and shot. You have bled for me. And you should never have had to. I would give anything to make sure you are never hurt again. I asked you once to stay by my side, and you did. And maybe you shouldn’t have. I know I’m not an easy man to love. But I am so, incredibly thankful that you did.

Words fail in the face of the enormity of what I need to say to you. But I’ll try. For both of us. You saved me, Eiji. Even if I don’t survive what I still must do, even then I need you to know that in the way that mattered most, you saved me. You fitted all my sharp and broken pieces back together. You were the first person in my life, the first person since I was six years old, that I could let hold me without fear. You made me feel like my life didn’t have to be death and violence without end. Because you believed I was more than a talented murderer, you allowed me to become that. Because you weren’t afraid of me, I didn’t have to be either.

If you ever wonder if it was worth it, if I had it to do over again if I would make the same choices, the same sacrifices...It was. It is. You are worth everything. Always.  
I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry for the nightmare your life could have become because of me. But I am not sorry I knew you, Eiji. I’m not sorry I asked you to be with me. I’m not sorry I loved you. I can never be sorry for that.

I once said that knowing you cared for me was the best feeling in the world. But it isn't. It's close, but no. The best feeling in the world was caring for you. I love you Eiji. I will always love you. In this life and the next. I will always fight to find you, to save you, to come back to you. I said you didn’t have to promise me forever, and I meant it.

I want you to live, free and happy. And if that means you must walk away from me, even the memory of me, then I release you with pride. I’m proud that I got to know you Eiji. I don’t have to be your forever. In fact, it really is probably best for you if I’m not. But you are my forever. And I will pledge it to you with no hesitation, no doubt.

And if I can’t come back to you, please know it isn’t because I didn’t want to. Please know My soul is with you too. Forever.

Be happy, Eiji. Please be happy.

I love you.

Sayonara,  
Ash

***  
Tears smudged the ink, just a bit. But he didn’t want to rewrite it. This was his heart, written down on stationary with little birds along the edge. Birds always reminded him of Eiji. He sealed the envelope and handed it to Blanca.

“What will you tell him?”

“The truth, so far as it goes. That you gave it into my keeping. That I am passing it on to him” Blanca put the letter carefully into his breast pocket. “I am sorry, Ash. I wish it could have been different.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Blanca handed him a small screen and earpiece. “I am not sure watching this will be good for you. But since I know you’ll find a way to listen in no matter what, this will keep you out of trouble. My camera is in my glasses. The mic is in the tie tack. I’ll do my best to look at what you would most wish to see.”

“Thank you.” He sounded strangled. His stomach churned and roiled and he wished that Blanca hadn’t force fed him breakfast. But he was appreciative. He wanted to see Eiji’s face when he knew, finally, that he cared for him, deeply and wholly.

“I’m going soft,” Blanca muttered. But he put his hat on and headed out the door regardless.

***

“Blanca?” Eiji’s voice caught on a gasp. He craned his neck, trying to look beyond the huge man filling his doorway. He was instantly tense. “Is something wrong?”

“Hello Eiji. May I come in?”

“Yes, yes of course, please. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. I will not take much of your time. I have something for you.” He took his time looking around the apartment, being certain to linger on the cozy furniture and well stocked kitchen. But mostly he looked at Eiji. Let Ash drink his fill, he thought.

“Oh? You d,do?” Eiji looked nervous but his eyes gleamed with something painfully akin to hope. “Did you hear the rumor? Is that why you’re back? Do, do you think it could be true?” Eiji wrung his hands. “I, I don’t have a lot of money. I could sell this place, but that would take time… But I will get it if…” His eyes flicked away, cheeks paling as he gnawed on his lower lip in sudden discomfort.

Blanca watched him harden his resolve. It was quite impressive, really. He was clearly out of his depth, not fully understanding what he was doing. He was just as clearly going to do it anyway. Eiji straitened. “I have about $8,000 in savings. Once the house sells, after I pay off the mortgage, I could have about $75,000 more. Si--I have a way to get a loan for another $50,000. I, I don’t know what your services usually cost. Probably more than that. But...But you cared about him too. I know you did. And if, if he’s alive. If they have him or are hurting him, if… Find him, Blanca. Find him and bring him home. I’ll do anything. Anything in my power. Anything I can bribe or beg or steal. If he’s alive...just…Please.” Tears stood out in Eiji’s eyes.

“Ash Lynx is not Dino Golzine’s successor. He never could have been. I think we both know that.” Eiji’s face crumpled for a moment. His teacup trembled, sloshing tea over his hand. But he nodded, once.

“Of course. What, what can I do for you Blanca?” His voice was almost steady.

Ash watched the tiny screen clutched in his left hand, his right holding the earpiece tight to his head. He wanted every second, every breath. He blinked tears out of his eyes unwilling to allow his focus to blur even for a moment.

“Ash gave me this.” He pulled out the envelope. Eiji’s name was formed on the outside in clumsy Kanji. Eiji’s eyes followed the movement of the paper through the air, a sound caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob breaking free when he saw the attempt. ‘Of course Ash taught himself this. Of course he did.’ it seemed to say.

“He wanted you to have it. In case he never got the chance to tell you everything himself.”

“What does it say?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t give him much in the end. Not nearly as much as I wished. But his final message to you--that I can give him.” His voice sounded like an apology. Eiji reached toward the envelope, but Blanca didn’t release it immediately. “It would be best, after this, if you were to let go. To move on. All he really wanted was for you to be safe.”

“Well fuck him, then.” Eiji’s sudden fury was almost shocking. “Because that wasn’t what I wanted. All those guys all working so hard to wrap me in a bubble and keep me safe.” The word sounded like it blistered his lips, spat out like venom. “I wanted him. The mess and the baggage and the danger. All of it! I wanted him!” He was shaking, his eyes glassy. But no tears fell. “Bones told me what you said to him. And maybe you meant well, I don’t know. But you were wrong.”

Ash could imagine Blanca’s brow raised in question. “Oh?”

“You told him he shouldn’t have stayed with me, that he had to let me go. You told him he had no right to make me an accessory to his crimes.” He choked on a furious sob. “You told him I didn’t exist to be his redemption. You were wrong.”

Ash couldn’t tell if Eiji was shaking or he was.

“It was my purpose. My only goal. I don’t think it was fate or god or anything so grand. I love him. I want to save him, to show him that gang boss and murderer and prostitute--those were roles, things he did. But they didn’t have to be who he was. And I’m not stupid. You think I am, but I’m not. I know those things left marks on his soul. How could they not? But I know things you don’t know. I know that he loves mustard because he’s been cooking for himself since he was seven years old, and it covers the taste of burnt food. I know that even though he hates baseball he still played catch with Skip when he found out no one ever had. I know he tutored Shorter's sister so she could get her business degree, and when she insisted on paying him he took his payment in Kong's little sister's favorite dumplings because his family couldn't afford them. I know what he looks like laughing in the moonlight catching snowflakes on his tongue. I know that he was lonely and touch starved and so, so willing to be held when he knew no one was watching. He wasn’t cold Blanca. Everyone believed it because it made things easier for them--to think he didn’t need anything but the next task, the next challenge. But he needed to be saved. He needed to be loved. And it was my job, my purpose to love him!” Eiji was yelling now, tears running unheeded down his face.

“How dare you! How dare you tell him that he didn’t deserve that? That he didn’t have the right to reach for what was offered.” Eiji snatched the letter. “He died to save me. Don’t think I don’t fucking know that. Sing won’t say it. Alex, Bones--they won’t even hint at it. But it’s true. And you know it. He died. And he didn’t have to. Because his life--it wasn’t going to destroy me. I’m stronger than that. I would have found a way to be strong enough. Because Ash should have had the right to be weak.”

“Eiji.” Blanca’s voice held a note Ash couldn’t identify. “I don’t expect you to understand. People like Ash, like me. We forgot how to be human a long time ago. You can’t go back. In the end, Ash knew that.”

“Maybe you forgot. He didn’t. I know he didn’t. Behind the ice was a little boy afraid of pumpkins, was a young man that inspired a gang leader to go to law school, was a beautiful, amazing person who only needed someone to love.” Eiji sniffed, his voice dropping lower and lower until he was almost whispering. “I’m sorry for you, Blanca. I’m sorry you are so cold that you couldn’t see his fire.”

“Read your letter Eiji. I hope it brings you peace.” Blanca gripped his shoulder. “I-I think it would mean a lot to Ash to know that you felt that way.” His voice hitched a bit, but Eiji didn’t respond.

Ash had wanted to see Eiji’s reaction. Wanted to watch him realize how deeply loved he was. Now he was less sure. To see Eiji’s vehemence, three years after the fact no less, shocked him more than he realized it likely should. His hands were trembling so badly he had to set the screen on the table or worry about dropping it. Blanca’s voice seemed very far away when he spoke.

“I have no wish to intrude on what is private. But I have taken it upon myself to expunge the memory of Banana Fish. I will step away. But please share with me anything he told you that would help me be certain the drug that destroyed so much is well and truly eradicated.”

Eiji glared at him, clearly wishing to say no, to throw him out. But Ash had feared Blanca. And trusted him. He turned his back, retreating to a chair by the window and holding the envelope unopened to his chest. He curled around it, doing his best to muffle his tears. His dog, Buddy, padded over and rested his head on Eiji’s thigh.

“Hey boy. It’s ok. I’m ok.” He rubbed half-heartedly at the dog's ears. Ash could see the animal settle.

Blanca walked to the far side of the room, obviously and conspicuously scanning the book titles and knick-knacks neatly organized on the bookshelf. Ash could tell when something caught his eye because the swaying movement of the camera froze. He watched Blanca’s hand reach out to lift a small photo in a simple wooden frame. In it he was shirtless, his wet hair dripping as he hung upside down from a tree. Eiji stood below him, finger outstretched to poke his cheek. They were both pink from sun and laughter, caught in a carefree moment of pure, childlike joy.

Ash remembered it. He could feel the scrape of the bark against the back of his knees, feel the chill of Eiji’s finger, cool from the water even in the warmth of the sunlight. It had been an unseasonably warm fall day and he and Eiji had decided to take advantage of it. They had spent the early afternoon swimming in the river at the back of his father’s property.

Shorter had shivered theatrically and declared himself a city kid before curling up with a stack of Griffin’s old comic books. Ash and Eiji had spent the day playing like children. Shorter had actually snuck the photo on his phone shortly before breaking the mood by shouting “Spiderman Kiss!” and laughing like a pineapple headed fool.

That had been the day, maybe the moment that Ash realized that he loved Eiji, even if he didn’t quite know what it meant yet. It had been one of the first and very last times he had ever felt truly free and happy.

Blanca’s fingers reached toward the photo. Ash’s fingers mimicked them toward the screen. He saw Eiji’s hand enter the frame, gently pull the photo from Blanca’s hand and pause before replacing it on the shelf next to the photo of Ash and Griffin in baseball jerseys that had been taken literal lifetimes ago. Ash wondered when he had visited Cape Cod. Did he steal it? He supposed it didn't matter.

Eiji’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “This was the Ash I knew. This was the Ash that wrote that letter. This Ash deserved to live.” He coughed, cleared his throat. Sniffed.

“I never saw him like that. Not once.” Blanca too sounded unusually harsh.

Eiji’s voice had lost its fiery fury. He just sounded tired when he responded, “You never looked.”

Blanca turned. Eiji was pale. Two spots of color high on his rounded cheekbones and a bit of bright red at the tip of his nose seemed to be painted over a pallid, washed out image of Eiji’s usually warm brown skin. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, but they glowed with a strong emotion Ash hesitated to label. It didn’t look like pain.

“There was nothing there about Banana Fish, Blanca. Nothing at all.” He looked closely. Ash knew that look. It was the look Eiji got when he suspected he was being kept in the dark for his own good. A sort of exasperated frustration mixed with a grudging gratitude.

“I hope you find peace Eiji.” Blanca said, once again gripping his upper arm. “I know that wherever Ash may be, that is his greatest wish.”

“Thank you.” He walked Blanca to the door. Just as Blanca was leaving, Eiji called out quietly but firmly. “Blanca if you see Ash. No matter how hurt, no matter how lost...if you find him, tell him...Tell him I meant it. I will wait for him forever.”

Blanca didn’t say anything in return. He didn’t chide Eiji or call him foolish. He didn’t demand he move on or play his role. He just looked for a long time. Eiji held his eye without flinching. “Ash is dead.”

Eiji didn’t respond. His fingers clenched around the paper he still held. He closed the door in Blanca’s face.


	11. Chapter 11

“I’m telling you he’s alive.” Eiji’s voice bordered on desperation.

Ash froze in place, the blue and purple gift bag filled with children’s books and a little flannel blanket that the shop had said would be useful for all newborns dangled from numb fingers at his side. Alex’s shift didn’t start for an hour. Eiji didn’t live anywhere near here. What the hell?

“Eiji,” The voice was placating. Sad. Max? “I don’t want to give up either. But… there’s nothing else there. A rumor followed by an explosion. It looks like--it looks like someone used his name to take out some higher ranking competition.”

“Probably Blanca,” Eiji harrumphed. “He’s in town, and that’s the kind of thing he would do. But, that’s not all. I mean, the rumor, that’s not my only proof...”

“I, uh, I asked Yut-Lung. He’s heard a few things actually. Nothing definite. But a few deaths that don’t connect unless you know what we know. He couldn’t tell me much, damned over-protective idiot. But it can’t all be Blanca. Bodies are dropping on two continents. Three now.” Sing? Ash nearly dropped his gift. What was going on? Blanca sure as hell wasn’t going to like it.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Alex at least sounded normal. Ash crept closer, staying hidden around the corner and within the shadows of the building.

“Well, I’m just saying there are rumors. And, uh, I looked into that Dare kid. Yut-Lung said he’s essentially a ghost. Nobody’s ever heard of him. He just appeared, saved Eiji’s ass, and disappeared again.” This was met with a few unintelligible grumbles. “I mean, I know you guys still don’t trust him. I don’t even blame you. But Yut-Lung has no reason to lie about this.”

“This is not about Dare. Blanca’s in town, delivering a letter that crops up THREE YEARS after Ash dies. Every person other than Bones and Yut-Lung that knows anything about anything is either sitting at this table or dead. Look around. This is Ash’s inner circle. The people he trusted. The people he cared about. Blanca wouldn’t give a shit. Every single one of us is a security risk. But Ash--Ash would look out for us. He, he--” Eiji’s voice broke.

Everyone? But that meant...

“Hey, hey, calm down, kiddo.” Max again. Ash was frozen with indecision. It would be so easy to walk around the corner. So easy to try to erase the last few years to start over. He was at least relatively certain none of them would shoot him on sight.

“I don’t know man. I mean I buy Blanca’s doing the scary-ass assassin thing. But I don’t think Ash would leave Eiji.” Cain’s voice rumbled. So he was there. “Seemed like that was really what he was fighting for in the end.”

Alex chimed in. “He would. He would have died for Eiji in a heartbeat. It was terrifying. And he went to Golzine without so much as a goodbye. And the more I know about that cesspit, the more I’m glad I never found out when I’d have to look him in the eye. If he thought he had to…Like, look, Sing, I know he’s your boss, but Yut-Lung was pretty clear that he wanted to hurt Eiji to get to Ash. And now he’s willing to leave him alone. Maybe, maybe he is alive, somewhere. Boss was sure as hell one tough Bitch.” He trailed off. He sighed. “Or maybe it's all wishful thinking because none of us want him to be dead.”

“I dunno, guys.” Fucking Kong was here too?

“He saved my life.” That was Sing. “In the final fight. He gave up Banana Fish to save me. Turned down my challenge. He--”

“Hey kid, Ash was like that, ok? He was scary as hell sometimes. But he was also someone you wanted in your corner. He was fair. And he tried to be just. That’s why we followed him. He made the gang a family. It took Eiji for me to see that he loved us all behind that ice-man mask. But I trusted him with my life from day one. Fuck kid, if he told me to keep quiet, I kept quiet. Can’t hardly blame you for doing the same thing. Ok? It wasn’t your fault.” There was a rustling sound before Alex continued. “And it wasn’t yours either.” Eiji made a skeptical noise. “Cain knows. Kong too. And you should, Sing. Bosses die in the life. It’s just the way it is. It’s why I had to get out, now I got a kid coming any day now. Shit.”

Eiji cleared his throat. “I know he liked you Sing, respected that you tried your best to look out for your guys. He-he made the wrong call with Lao. He was so used to secrets keeping people safe-- Shorter’s death broke his heart. If you can’t believe he saved you for you, believe he saved you for him.”

“So you keep saying Eiji, but--I can’t help but think--”

“Hell, turns out with the people in the know dropping like flies, he may have been right in the long run.” Cain’s rumble interrupted. “More I know about who seems to be accidentally dead, more I’m glad most of my guys never heard the words Banana Fish.”

“I just wish he was alive to see--Sing’s graduating with honors. Cain’s gonna be a lawyer. Alex is going to be a dad. Even Michael looks up to him, wants to make people feel safe the way he did…” Max sounded wistful. “He was so much a part of that, of making us all want to be better. I wonder if he ever knew.”

“He ISN’T dead.” Eiji insisted.

“Eiji please. You have to let this go. You’re going to drive yourself crazy. I know you said this isn’t about Dare, but remember when you were so sure that damned crazy green-haired punk was connected to Ash? Remember what happened? Please Eiji. Ash wouldn't want you to waste away hiding behind a camera to avoid living the rest of your life. And he wouldn’t want you to wait for a reunion that just isn’t coming.”

“So you say, I am just stupid Japanese. Cannot see real world, yes? Cannot make connections like big smart gang bosses and newspaper reporters.” His accent was thick, his words harsh. It was clearly deliberate. Ash wondered if the others knew how much danger they were in. Eiji was pissed. “I am not an idiot. And I know what I know.”

Ash peeked around the corner. He’d missed Eiji’s softness, his cooking, his care, his comfort. But god he had missed this too--his steel resolve. Eiji’s eyes were snapping, “His letter, the one he supposedly took time to write in the midst of all that chaos, the one NONE of you knew about or even suspected, it quoted the letter I sent to him.” Sing flinched.

“Yes, I know. I know about the letter. I have lived with the idea that he got stabbed because of me, again. That I distracted him, Again. That this time, I got him killed. Believe me. I know that wishing for things doesn’t make them true. I never blamed you, Sing. You only did as I asked. And that damned stubborn asshole was going to do what he was going to do no matter what you did or didn’t say. The point is that he--”

“Heh, now that shit is the real truth,” Alex snorted. “You’re the only one who could ever talk him down, Eiji”

“Shorter could.”

“Bullshit. Shorter never in his life talked someone _out of_ something stupid,” Sing returned. Ash barely suppressed his own snort of amusement. Wasn’t that the truth? God he missed that dumbass.

It was almost trite--too much a movie trope to be believed. But stereotypes come from somewhere. Ash had continued to inch closer, to see his family, his people together. To hear them talking. They sounded like they were ok, happy. They sounded like they still cared. He just wanted to see. Just for a second. The breeze blew strands of blond hair, escaped from his hoodie, across his face. Maybe he sensed he was being watched. Regardless of his student status now, he’d been a boss, and a good one. But Cain looked up, just as the sun came out from behind a cloud, catching the pale strands and highlighting them, drawing the eye.

“Ash?” His voice was tentative, unsure. He clearly believed he was seeing things. But Eiji and Sing whipped around, Max a split second behind them.

He dropped the gift bag and bolted, ducking out of the main streets as soon as he was sure he was out of sight. He heard Cain’s sheepish laugh, his self-deprecating “Guess I was just seeing things…”

But there was the sound of pursuit. Eiji was falling behind, but Sing was in top condition. And at this point he had two inches on Ash. Ash was still recovering from his weeks long spiral. If he didn’t get out of sight soon, he would be caught. And he was having trouble regretting it.

Blanca’s hand shot out a door, grabbing his collar and yanking him inside. He made a choking sound as Ash’s hand connected to his trachea but his grip didn’t loosen. “That was stupid,” he gasped. “I would almost think you want to endanger them. You cannot let them know.”

“I didn’t know they’d be there. I just wanted to leave something behind. For the baby. It was supposed to be harmless.”

“You know, I almost believe you,” Blanca groused releasing Ash and rubbing his throat. “Why not just leave an envelope of cash? Babies are expensive.”

Ash blushed. “There’s $500 taped on the inside cover of each book. And a gift certificate for something called a diaper service. I’ll be honest. I didn’t ask.”

Blanca threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll be damned. The Japanese kid might just have been right.”

“What are you on about, old man?” Ash growled, clearly embarrassed.

“You--you’re a damned chameleon. You fit into any role they hand you. But the one you want--still, even now--you just want to take care of them, don’t you.”

“I mean, yeah. Nobody took care of me, not after Griffin left. I had to do it myself. But sometimes there were people, Jennifer bringing cookies up to the house, the older boys in the club giving tips to make things hurt less, Shorter looking out for me in Juvie, even you Blanca, teaching me how to survive the absolute shit-show that Golzine tried to make me the star of. Little crumbs of caring. And I--I wanted to give that to others. Because maybe I’m more than a dumpster or a public toilet, maybe I could protect instead of hurt.”

He turned away. “All I ever wanted was for someone to care for me. I wanted to be worth more than a gun or somthing pretty to fuck. I wanted… “ He sighed, and it sounded defeated. He didn’t see Blanca’s face as it softened, looking almost fond.

“Blanca, do you think he meant it, what Eiji said to you? Do you think--do you think I was wrong?”

“You weren’t wrong, Ash. The only way to protect him from your life was to end it. But you were wrong as well. Because you never really let yourself trust him. You never took the chance that he would see the ugliness in all its harsh reality and still want you. You were afraid he couldn’t take it. Even though he never turned away.” Blanca gently rested his hand between Ash’s shoulders. “You didn’t ask, but I was right too. Other humans aren’t meant to be tools. We cannot simply use them to make ourselves feel better. People are not pawns to be endangered unnecessarily for our advantage. But I think I was wrong too. Because I didn’t realize how strong he was. And I didn’t realize how strong he made you.”

“What?” Ash whipped around, eyes wide, mouth gaping in shock. “I--”

“We all told you he made you weak. You thought so yourself, but-- I envy your strength of character Ash, your strength of purpose. In spite of everything, when you found the right person, you were strong enough to love him, really love him. You were able to find joy. Not pleasure or satisfaction, but joy.” Blanca’s smile was wistful.

“I thought this,” He gestured around the dim, dusty room smelling of urine and worse and filled with rotten blankets and broken furniture. Old metal shelves were partially collapsed in the center of the space. Dusty dented boxes of yellowed, water spotted stationery slumped toward the center. Empty beer cans and used needles littered the floor. “Was the future that awaited you if you continued to fight Monsieur. So many gangs fall to drugs or alcohol or cheap sex. So many gang leaders die young, a needle in their arm or a bullet in their chest.”

Ash scoffed. “Never.” I could never stomach that sort of life. I’d die first.”

“I know. I didn’t want you to die, Ash. I never had children...Oh don’t give me that look. I’m not your over sentimental fool of a surrogate dad. You have that bumbling idiot Max for that. I’m not your father. I don’t want to be your father. I don’t even like kids.” Blanca actually shuddered. There was clearly a story there, but Ash was too wrung out to try to draw it out.

When in doubt, start a fight. It had always worked for Ash in the past

“Is there a compliment in here somewhere? A bit of sage advice?” Irritate people enough and they stop looking too closely. It hadn’t ever worked with Blanca, but the atmosphere in the grimy room was too much after his narrow escape. Every few moments he could swear he could hear Eiji’s voice calling his name. It was physically painful. He wasn’t sure he could take fucking Blanca trying to be all fatherly.

“Do not test me Ash. You have once again allowed your body to become weak. Do not start fights you cannot win. You still owe me four bodies.”

Ash’s body tensed, fists clenching, before he forced himself to relax. He deliberately opened his mouth slightly to avoid grinding his teeth and dropped his shoulders. He couldn’t quite avoid the tension in his spine, but it was a clear attempt. Enough to let Blanca see that he was backing down, retreating from the fight.

“I met you as a child, Ash.”

“It had been a long time since I was a child when I met you, Blanca.”

“I know. I knew then, that your chance at a childhood was long gone. You couldn’t rejoin the world. It was clear. Already you knew that your body could be a weapon, that your mind would allow you to think your way around rules and limitations. I saw that, unfair as it may have been, that was the only world you would be able to be a part of. I decided to teach you to survive. Because I understood that you are unique. A true prodigy. A work of art. Golzine may have been arrogant trash, but he wasn’t wrong about that.”

Ash kept his peace. This was very similar to several conversations he’d already had with Blanca. He was frustrated but also exhausted, overwhelmed and in pain. He hadn’t even managed to drop off a baby present, couldn’t sneak past a distracted group of civilians, well and Sing. Prodigy. What a joke.

“Then I saw that picture.”

Ash couldn’t have been more shocked if Blanca had offered to dress up as the Easter Bunny and go delivering eggs.

“Eiji doesn’t display the photos he took of you. He doesn’t look at them. He doesn’t allow others to look at them. But he has a snapshot on his shelf, almost hidden.”

“I know. I saw, just like you did.” Ash’s throat stung. “Shorter took it.”

“Ah.” Blanca paused, just watching Ash fight for self-control. It wasn’t temper. Three years as Nemo had finally taught him to stop flying off the handle. But a fine tremor ran across his shoulders and down his arms, like he was suppressing a shiver in the cold.

“What about it?” Ash’s tone was almost pleading.

“It was a picture of two children playing in a tree.”

Ash felt his features crease in confusion. He opened his mouth but couldn't really formulate a question. Blanca was saying something important, he could tell from the intensity of his stare. But he couldn’t focus past the roaring in his ears. He nodded once, a sign he was listening that he wanted Blanca to continue.

“I didn’t know you could still play, Ash. I didn’t know that somehow, some part of you recognized that part of yourself and instead of killing it as a weakness, you sheltered it and protected it. I didn’t realize that with him, you could let yourself be a kid, a fully human person.”

“I’m sorry, Ash. I’m sorry I saw so much of myself in you that I failed to see you.”

“What--What are you saying?” It came out a strangled croak.

“I’m saying you need distance. You’re stupid when it comes to that boy. You need to be thinking clearly. But you should be able to complete your first and last assassin’s contract within six months. I don’t know if it’s too late. I don’t know if what you found once can be found again, here or elsewhere. But I don’t want to be the one that kills you Ash.”

“You mean?”

“When you have fulfilled our agreement, I won’t stop you. Die if you think it is best. Come here and be reborn if you can. Continue as my protegee of your own free will if you wish. You’re only twenty one. You have time to build a life if you want it. With my blessing.”

“I--”

Voices.

Blanca wouldn’t choose a blind hideaway. A blessing and a curse it seemed. Outside the window frantic voices passed again. Eiji shouted his name, voice ragged and afraid. They paused, not directly outside the door to their hiding space, but close enough for the voices to carry, just barely.

“Eiji, Eiji! Stop. Stop. He’s not here.” The poor boy sounded winded as well as upset.

“I’m not crazy, Sing. Cain saw him. He saw him standing there.”

“Eiji please. We need to go. It wasn’t him.”

“It was.” Eiji was obviously crying, the shuddering choke in his words seemed to ring like a shot. “He’s here, Sing. He’s alive. He’s alive and he’s ok. I need to see him to tell him. I-- it’s enough. He doesn’t have to stay by my side. He doesn’t have to love me. He just has to be ok. He just,” another sob. “He just has to live. I need him to live, Sing. Even if he doesn’t want me.”

“Eiji--” Sing sounded crushed. “Eiji, no.”

“I-- He did his best to push me away, to get me off the damned continent. We both know it. He didn’t want m,me to stay. I-- it can be enough for him to live, Sing. I just want to tell him, he--he doesn’t have to hide. I don’t want him to be alone because of me. It’s because of me.”

“No--” There were more words, harsh and whispered. Ash couldn’t hear. The sound of a scuffle, a wail.

“Eiji, Please, stop. It’s not your fault.”

“Not my fault? NOT MY FAULT?”

“Eiji, calm down. I’ll take you home…”

Ash was shaking. His hand clenched over his mouth only barely managed to muffle his sobs. Blanca reached out to gently pull him away from the doorway.

For the second time that day Ash spun, eyes wild and desperate. His fist connected with his mentor’s jaw with enough force to send him staggering back. He turned back to the door, body collapsing against it, legs trembling as he slid to his knees. He didn’t try to open the door, but he leaned into it as though it could offer some small comfort. “No,” he whispered. “No, no, no…”

“He lost Shorter because of me. He got stabbed because of me. He spent months as Golzine’s ragdoll. Because Of Me. And if he IS dead, then he died because of me. Don’t lie to me Sing. I can’t take any more pretty lies.”

“No,” Ash whispered. “Oh Eiji, no. It wasn’t--”

“He was running toward the airport.” Sing’s voice was low, wobbly with guilt. There were tears in his voice now too. “Lao told me, before he died. He thought--he thought he was saving my life, so he didn’t have a reason to lie. He wanted to go, Eiji, to the airport, to Japan...to you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eiji sounded unsure, so small and fragile, like a single blow or a strong wind would shatter him.

“I don’t know. I just... couldn’t. You were hurting so badly, and it was my fault. My brother. My mistake. My fault. I just--I want to say that it was because it didn’t matter, that he decided to go to the library in the end. I want to say that it was because I was afraid you would push us all even further away, and I knew you needed a friend. But the truth is, I didn’t want you to hate me. I still don’t.”

“How could I hate you, Sing?

Ash didn’t even respond when Blanca physically lifted him from the floor. The last thing he heard as he was carried away was Sing’s voice.

“Come on, Eiji. Let me take you home.”


	12. Chapter 12

Ash woke up sometime after the plane took off. Leave it to Blanca to have the plane they needed to catch be a private, chartered jet. It isn’t that Ash forgot his wealth. Death paid well, especially when you were the best. Reputation was everything in this world, and even before Blanca had gotten credit for both Golzine and Foxx’s deaths, he was known for his perfect record. 

Somehow it had never occurred to Ash to actually use the money he had stolen from Golzine after he was dead. Not for day to day comforts. He didn’t really want the money. It made his skin crawl. It was like the surveillance, the invasion, of Eiji’s life. He would use it from a desire to do good. But…

Ash wasn’t sure he was capable of actually doing good. Even when he tried. His mind began his litany of those damned by his attempt--Skip...Jessica...Shorter… But he was interrupted by Max’s voice. 

Sing was an honor student, and credited him with the motivation. Cain was going to law school. Ash remembered the conversation that likely inspired that train of thought. And Michael--that kid should associate him with the worst experiences of his young life. He should hate Ash. But he didn’t. In his eyes, Ash wasn’t a monster. He was a hero. He remembered Max’s obituary. He had laughed at it as fiction. But is that how Max really saw him? Could that actually be who he was? 

And Eiji, his sweet, vicious, lovely Eiji. He remembered the words again. Thought, really thought, about them. Could they have been true? “It wasn’t going to destroy me,” the beloved voice had insisted. “I’m stronger than that. I would have found a way to be strong enough. Because Ash should have had the right to be weak.”

He couldn’t remember a time in his life when that had been true. Griff, well--Griff had done his best, but ten year olds aren’t meant to raise babies. He’d never been angry about it, never resented it. It just was the way it was. 

He ruined the lives of the people who didn’t save themselves by abandoning him. The more he cared about them, the worse it was. He wasn’t sure when he started believing it. Again his litany of proof began to play in his head. And again it was interrupted by other voices. 

Alex saying he realized that Ash loved them. That they were a family.

Max saying he made people feel safe.

Sing saying he saved his life.

Jessica telling him she respected him.

Cain with a law degree, and Bones with a smile, and Skip with hero-worship in his eyes.

Shorter dying his hair green. Shorter sneaking him junk food that Golzine didn’t allow. Shorter calling to warn him. Shorter following him to California, joking and teasing, and bitching. Shorter who was his friend, who in the end hadn’t looked at him in fear or hatred or anger. He had looked to someone he trusted and asked for help. His best friend.

And Eiji--

They didn’t hate him. None of them hated him. They missed him. They...loved him. 

Maybe they would forgive him? Did he dare to hope?

Nemo meant no one. Dare Mo meant nobody. Odysseus had claimed to be no man… Ash had done his best to erase himself, his past, his influence. He had tried to be nothing, no one. 

But those men--they remembered a human being. They cared about a person. They knew--Shorter had known. Bones, Kong, Cain, Alex, Sing...they all knew exactly what he was, who he had been. How long ago had Max stopped caring about him as Griffin’s little brother and started caring about him? They didn’t see him as a disaster that had happened to them, even though all of them had lost so much because of him. 

And Eiji. Eiji had never been afraid. He had never wanted to leave. 

Long before Blanca had reminded him, Ash had felt selfish for wanting Eiji by his side. He had comforted himself, assuaged his guilt with the story of how he would send him away...soon… for his safety. To protect him from Corsica and the gangs of New York and the Lee family and… And Ash. To protect that wonderful, beautiful, innocent fool from the pretty blond demon that destroyed everything he tried to love. 

He had known, deep in the fiber of his soul, that he wasn’t worth that kind of love, that kind of devotion. He had shoved every shred of evidence of love and caring away--too afraid to want it, too desperate for it to let himself have it. 

He didn’t deserve Alex’s respect. His mistakes got people killed. He didn’t deserve Skip’s hero worship. But the kid didn’t have anybody else. He didn’t deserve Shorter’s friendship. But he could accept that they were allies. He knew Shorter could take care of himself. 

He had so many careful rationalizations. Max was in it to make it up to Griffin. Jessica had no choice but to rely on him. Sing needed him to help avenge his mentor. But Eiji…

He couldn’t explain Eiji away. There wasn’t an easy justification. Eiji didn’t need him. He couldn’t be a tool or an ally. He could only be him. And Eiji had wanted him. Cared for him. Held HIM in his arms. Loved him. Still loved him. After everything.

Ash didn’t even feel the tears on his face or the sobs tearing from his throat. It felt like stepping into a Cathedral or watching a breathtaking sunset. 

It was… It was beautiful and heartbreaking. And for just one second, he managed to shove aside the guilt and the shame and the years of experience that told him he couldn’t ever have anything so simple and human and mundane as that.

Love.

Romance.

Forever.

Something hot and shining was burning in his chest. It hurt, but oh-- Oh it was incredible. 

This was worth dying for. Killing for. 

And yet it demanded neither. It only demanded that he live. And let himself accept it.

When he finally managed to look up at Blanca, the older man was smiling. 

And it didn’t even make him nervous.

***  
Blanca didn’t leave Europe when they arrived. There was an unspoken agreement that Ash wasn't being left alone to fulfill the end of his contract. It didn’t feel like mistrust. It felt like...support. 

It felt like the time, so many years ago, when Blanca had clocked Ash’s latest rapist, knocked him cold. No words. Just silent support. He had barely known Blanca then, didn’t even consider that it wasn’t a play for power or an attempt at ownership.

Now? 

Now it seemed that Blanca too, had found it in himself to care for a person, at least a little. 

Ash didn’t say anything. Honestly, he wasn’t sure Blanca was ready to hear it.

Together it took them two weeks to put four carefully placed bullets between four sets of eyes.

Another two weeks scrubbed Nemo’s address and photos from the databases. Ash had laughed when Blanca had paid out three years worth of untaken vacation time. 

“Never turn down free money,” he had groussed. 

Ash surprised himself when he hugged him. Blanca surprised him even more when he hugged back. 

“Your contract is finished. What will you do?” he asked one evening over dinner. 

It was so different from the cold canned soup he had forced himself to choke down only two months ago. Then his future had held nothing but desperation. His life had an expiration date. And he had been relieved.

Yet here he was, sitting with a friend, of sorts, talking about a future he was officially free to choose. The paella was filled with fresh seafood and paired incredibly with the expensive red wine they both swirled in their glasses. It was a funny thought that he was finally old enough to order a glass of wine in his hometown. And his own death wasn’t even up for consideration. 

“I don’t know. I know what I want to do, I think. But--and don’t give the the therapist look because this isn’t about deserving or whatever-- I’m not sure if going back is the right thing to do. For all he said he would wait, Eiji was moving on.” Ash hesitated. “Sing seems to care for him a, uh a lot. He talks about Eiji’s place as home. Maybe… Do you think him and Sing, um, well I mean…”

“Eiji and Sing are not a couple, Ash. I checked.”

Ash choked on his wine. 

“I have never had time or energy for beating around the bush when a straight path is both easier and more likely to avoid messy complications. Eiji isn’t sleeping with Sing Soo-Ling. To my knowledge and fairly extensive information gathering, he has never even kissed him, nor does he seem to want to. They maintain different rooms. Sing dates occasionally, exclusively women. He stays with his friend in his own room because he cares about that friend who is grieving, just as Sing is grieving.” Blanca calmly sipped his own wine.

Ash gaped at him.

“I told you before, Ash. I have a reputation of perfection in my professional dealings. Eiji’s safety was a part of our contract. I took it quite seriously. Unlike you, I felt no guilt at watching him. Even if Sing wanted what you are suggesting, I don’t think Eiji is in a place to even notice. But if what you are saying is that you do not wish to return to New York--I can see that he might be someday.”

Ash blinked nonplussed. He hadn’t really expected Blanca to even entertain his question. Yet here he was. If he didn’t go back, Eiji might be able to move on, find a different love. Sing was a good kid, well on his way to becoming a good man. He would keep Eiji safe. He would care for him. If that was all he wanted…

“I just don’t have the right--I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Each and every one of your friends, your followers, even a few of your enemies would prefer you alive if given the choice.” Blanca took a bite of shrimp, chewed slowly. He gestured with his fork until Ash also took another bite.

“You will hurt them, Ash. Not just because they will feel betrayed by your deception, already feel betrayed by your willingness to die and abandon them.” Ash flinched, but Blanca continued blithely. “And you will hurt them in little, day to day ways. Because that is the nature of humans. But you will also bring them joy and relief and comfort. How you handle their feelings is up to you. How you behave is the choice you can make. You cannot decide whether or not they forgive you.” He watched Ash chew and swallow. “But for whatever it’s worth, I believe they will.”

“Thank you, Blanca. For, well for a lot of things.” His smile was genuine. “Will you visit?”

Blanca’s smile was wide and happy. “Of course. Does this mean you’re going home?”

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”


	13. Chapter 13

In the end, he decided that after all the false alarms and wild goose chases, it wouldn’t be fair to just show up unannounced. Besides, he wanted to give Eiji the opportunity to say no. Choice. Consent. Things he was never offered. He would give them to the people he loved.

So he sent an email. He wrote and rewrote it at least twenty times, doing his best to avoid pushing or demanding. Simple and unpressured. It was damn near impossible.

To Eiji,  
I spoke with Blanca. He said you are waiting to hear from me.  
I am alive. I have made certain that the thing that destroyed so many can never hurt you or those you love.

You are safe.

You are free.

You owe nothing to any of us.

I am safe and well. I have money. I am ok, Eiji. I promise you.

The thing I want most in this world is for you to be happy.

What should I do now?

With love, Always.  
Ash.

***  
It was terrible. It was emotionless and yet still felt like too much pressure. But he had squandered a week since his dinner with Blanca trying to compose a better one, and had finally given up and hit send before he actually ripped his hair out.

He did his best to keep busy. He checked his email at least hourly. He paced. He cooked food and then gave up on trying to eat it and packaged it up and put it in the fridge.

His phone pinged. Eiji had opened the email.

He gave up any pretense of trying to keep his mind off of things and simply sat, staring at his phone. He chewed his lip nervously, leg bouncing. He watched the digital display. Had minutes always been this long?

3 minutes.

5 minutes.

Maybe he would say no. Maybe he was trying to compose a way to tell him it was too late. Ash squeezed his eyes closed. That would be ok, he told himself.

10 minutes.

His phone pinged. Twice in quick succession. He opened his email with shaking hands.

The first response felt like a literal blow. He hadn’t considered, hadn’t even thought about it. It made sense, he guessed…

He read it again.

**I don’t know who you are, or how you found my name and email, but this prank is cruel. It is not funny to play upon a man’s doomed hope. I hope that you do not understand the enormity or what this is or what it could mean. I hope that you thought this was just a silly joke.**

**I hope that your intention was not to cause the kind of pain this kind of lie leads to. Because I wish to believe the best of people. For Ash.**

**Please do not contact me again.**

**Eiji Okumura**.

  
Ash read it a third time, his chest tight. He wanted to throw his phone away from himself. He wasn’t sure he could even face the second email. He started to type out an apology. It was hard to breathe.

The second email blinked at him accusingly. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to hear the rejection and disbelief in Eiji’s voice. I didn’t…

But he had to. So he opened it. And stared.

**Ash,**   
**Oh God, Ash. Just in case it wasn’t a prank. Just in case.**

**If there’s any chance, any at all, that it is really you. That you’re somehow miraculously alive.**

**Come home.**

**Please come home.**

**Or tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.**

**I can send you money or I don’t know. Anything. Just tell me what you need. Tell me and I’ll find a way.**

**As if you are really alive, if you really and truly want me to be happy...Please tell me how to bring you home.**

**I will wait for you forever,**   
**Eiji**

Ash read it. He reread it. Forever. Immediately he closed his email, already moving to book the soonest flight. No thought in his head other than to run home to run to Eiji to…

His phone pinged again, interrupting his transaction. Who cared. He had money. He’d buy a ticket from the airport. He grabbed his jacket, looked around the room at his things. He didn’t need any of it.

Except. He grabbed his letter, slid it carefully into his backpack before haphazardly adding some clothes, his passport, and whatever else fell to hand. Laptop and charger. He hadn’t wiped his drive. It couldn’t be left behind. That was it. His phone chimed again, twice more.

In the cab he checked the messages.

**Ash,**   
**I didn’t mean to pressure you. You aashked what to tdo amd i jsut sent my answer. Just let me k now thaat you’re ok,a dna that is all I need. JI want you to know its ok if you need to stay where you are.**

**My soul is still will you**   
**EIji**

It was clearly rushed, rife with typos and mistakes. He had to read it twice just to be sure he knew what it actually said. He remembered the conversation he had listened in on all those months ago.

He quickly opened the second email. A single word.

**Ash?**

And then the third.

**The joke was not funny. Please just tell me the truth. I will not get angry.**

Oh. He hadn’t thought. He didn’t realize Eiji was awaiting a response.

Of course he was. He had been contacted out of the blue by a dead man.

“Pull over. Let me out,” Ash snapped at the driver. He could hail another cab. He had to make this call now. He tossed some money at the driver and staggered, nearly tripping over his own feet, natural grace totally absent in his rush. Once off the street he yanked his phone from his pocket.

He dialed the number he’d had memorized for years. He waited as it rang. No answer. He couldn’t leave a message. His mouth dried and his throat clicked soundlessly.

He hung up and dialed again. And again.

On his fourth try, the line connected. It had that bottom of the well echo that many international calls seemed to have, but it didn’t matter because that was Eiji’s voice. Ash smiled at the fury in his voice. He couldn’t help it.

“Listen here, whoever you are. This isn’t funny!” His voice cracked a little. “Please, just--”

“E-.” He interrupted only to have to pause and clear his throat. “Eiji,” he tried again.

For a moment he was afraid Eiji had hung up or the call had been dropped. But if he listened carefully he could hear harsh breathing beyond the tinny echo of a mediocre connection.

Then tentatively, as if afraid that a loud noise or sudden movement could shatter the peace Eiji choked out barely above a whisper, “Ash?”

His voice! It sounded disbelieving. Hopeful. Ash couldn’t stop the grin from spreading. “Y,yeah. Yes. It’s me.”

“You’re alive?”

“Yeah,” he forced past the lump in his throat.

“I knew it.” He listened to the shaky breaths as they slowly dissolved into sobs. He waited for Eiji to speak, but he didn’t. He just held the phone and sobbed.

He wanted to say something, but what? Panic clawed at his chest, Ash didn’t know what to do, what he’d expected. The longer this went on, the more he was sure he’d been wrong.

“I, I’m s,sorry Eiji. I just-- fuck. I. What do you need?”

Eiji continued to cry.

“I’m so so sorry, Eiji. I didn’t mean-- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I can… I’ll just...go.” Ash said, forcing his voice to clarity as he had been trained. His world might be caving in, but even if he couldn’t quite force the words out precisely, he wouldn't allow Eiji to hear the pain in his voice.

What the hell had he been thinking anyway?

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Eiji growled. “Don’t go. Don’t hang up this phone. Don’t…” He broke down again sobs filling the air. But he rallied. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

Ash couldn’t keep the wobble out of his voice any longer. “Spain. I--I was on my way to the airport. To you, if you still want me. I could be in New York tomorrow.”

“I’ll be at the airport.” Eiji said firmly.

“Ok.”

“Don’t--Don’t let me wait for you at the airport again. Ok?”

Ash gave a wet chuckle. “I won’t. I promise.”

***  
When Ash got off the plane, rumpled and exhausted and so incredibly happy, he scanned the crowds. It was an odd hour in New York. Most of the kiosks and restaurants in the terminal hadn’t opened yet. But the oddly empty space didn’t contain a dark haired boy in an ugly sweater vest.

Eiji wasn’t here.

Ash didn’t let his face fall. He didn’t let his steps falter. He walked calmly and impassively down the concourse, repeating to himself that no matter what, it was Eiji's choice. It was ok.

He spotted a familiar face in the distance, leaning against the gate that closed off some sort of duty free perfume shop. He was holding a cup of Airport terminal coffee and looking directly at the blond man.

Sing.

For a second the horrifying symmetry of the moment froze Ash in his tracks. He wondered if Sing was there to give him another letter. This one telling him goodbye. It was horribly fitting.

His lip curled into a wry smile, snorting amusement at the absurdity of this situation. Sing had yelled at him, last time. Called him a fool. Tried to save him from his own misguided sense of honor. He wondered what Sing would say this time.

Time to face the music and let the ghosts have their say, Ash supposed.

He walked forward. Ash realized several things. His hands were shaking. Which didn’t really matter because he wasn’t armed. Sing’s face was unreadable. Ash shoved his hands into his pockets and approached the young man he’d last seen running toward this very airport

“Sing.”

“Holy shit, it really is you.”

“Is Eiji ok? Please--”

“No he isn’t fucking ok, asshole.” Ash couldn’t suppress his flinch or keep the panic off his face. “Stop, he’s not in danger. He just--Shit man, you fucked him up really good last night. He’s with Max. Who you didn’t fucking think to call or email or anything--so that was fun.”

Ash flinched again. His cheeks reddened a bit. It had never been Max that had the say-so of come or go in his mind. But, yeah. He should have contacted him too.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

Ash wanted to argue. Sing was obviously livid. And to be honest, Ash didn’t blame him. Whatever the kid threw at him, he was determined to take. He owed him that much, at least.

Sing lurched forward, telegraphing the move in a way that showed just how upset he was. Ash braced for the punch he knew was coming. Sing owed him a few. Instead he found himself enveloped in a hug.

Sing was taller than him, now. Huh. His mind was having trouble keeping up with all the sudden changes.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. You’re alive. You really did make it out. God, I’m so glad. We missed you.” Sing was mumbling into his hair. Ash patted his back awkwardly.

Sing stepped back. “I convinced Eiji to stay with Max. He was in no condition to be here, out in the public eye. Just in case. He wanted to come. But...”

Ash nodded. That made sense. He was glad, even if it was disappointing. Eiji deserved his dignity.

“If it wasn’t you--he didn’t deserve that. And if it was...well. I have something to say to you. And I want to say it now, before you step foot out of this airport.” Sing took a deep breath, steeling his resolve.

Ash nodded again.

“If you’re not back for good. If you’re just here to see or try whatever. Then get out. Get back on that plane and go far away and never come back. Because I know you love him. I know, ok. I’m not blind or stupid. I know you did what you believed was right, maybe what you had to do. And I can’t hold it against you. Because I’ve seen Max’s research, and I’ve talked to Yut-Lung and I know, or I think I know where you’ve been. And I get it.”

“You may love him. But you weren’t here. You weren’t the one to pick him up off the floor at 2 am. You weren’t here to make him eat, to convince him to shower, to take away the bottles and convince him to stop drinking. You didn’t have to watch him live in a city filled with landmarks and memories he can’t bear to look at.”

“He’ll never forgive me for sending you away. And I can’t say I don’t care, because I do. Eiji is my closest friend. But I’d rather he hate me forever than watch him destroy himself again. He won’t survive losing you a second time.”

“Because Eiji is totally, completely, wildly in love with you. So much that it scares me. It scares him. So if you don't want him, let him go. But fucking do it. No more watching or weird messages. No baby gifts. Nothing. No hope. Close the door. Lock it. Walk away. So if you’re going to love him, then fucking do it. Stop breaking his goddamned heart for his own good. Because it isn’t for his protection, and it never was. You can’t stand to see him hurt. Well you hurt him, Ash. Worse than Golzine. Worse than Yut-Lung. Worse than the bullet that ripped through his guts. And you didn’t have to watch him suffer. I did.”

“He really would have waited for you forever, you bastard.”

Sing was crying. He wiped his face angrily.

“So the next time someone stabs you, because of-fucking-course there will be a next time, you idiot, You call a hospital. Do you fucking hear me? You do not bleed all over the letter the love of your life used to bare his soul to you because your pigheaded ass couldn’t let him choose what was best for himself.”

Ash gave a wet chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, I hear you.”

“Good.” Sing nodded, smiled a little. “He loves you, Ash. He loves you so fucking much. And he never gave up on you, no once. And you owe him that same dedication. Can you love him, Ash. Really love him. Not enough to protect him, but enough to be with him. All the way. Enough to be ordinary?”

Ash opened his mouth but no words came. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s all I want.” He cleared his throat again. “That’s why I sent the email--I, I wanted him to have the chance to say no, to tell me to stay away or to go fuck myself.” He paused. Sing was looking at him with burning eyes.

Finally he seemed to settle something within himself. “Did you and Blanca finish the job.”

“Yes. It’s over. We decided… We decided Yut-Lung wasn’t a loose end.” He paused, noticing the slight loosening of the tension in Sing’s shoulders. “If you think we were wrong--I can contact Blanca, but… I trust your judgement. And I think-- I, I’m so tired of killing. So tired of death.”

The look Sing gave him this time was one of understanding “Thanks.”

“Thank you, SIng. For, for then and for now Thank you for watching out for Eiji.”

“Are you staying?”

“Yes.”

Sing seemed to deflate. Relief and joy bloomed on his features. “Good. He’ll be waiting for you. He said you’d know where.”

***  
When Ash walked into the library he felt transported. This had been his refuge. The sounds, the smells, the way the light slanted through the windows...They all felt like comfort, like peace. He took a moment to breathe deeply, just letting the serenity of his favorite place fill him. He closed his eyes. In just a minute, he would turn the corner, he would see him. Be allowed to speak to him.

He was terrified.

Sing put a gentle hand on his back, offering silent support. He was grateful. He didn’t shrug him off. It was nice.

And then he turned and he was there and everything else melted away. He could be on the surface of the moon for all he noticed his surroundings now.

Eiji sat in his old seat, methodically shredding a sheet of paper. He looked a little greenish, if Ash was honest. He was beautiful.

Max sat next to him, hand continuously rubbing his back. He looked overwhelmed and nervous too.

Ash smiled.

Sing made some noise. Ash had forgotten he was there. His instinct to check behind him died entirely when Eiji looked up and met his eye.

He didn’t remember moving, but suddenly he was standing at the table. Eiji was there next to him. He couldn’t breathe. He lifted a hand and let it drop. He was less than a foot away, and Ash had no idea how to traverse the divide.

Eiji stared back, eyes wide. Slowly, with shaking fingers, he traced along the edge of Ash’s jaw, fluttered his fingers over his cheekbones, brushed them across his lips. His lips silently formed his name. Tears gathered along his lashes, spilled down his cheeks.

Distantly, Ash was aware of Sing leading Max away a little, giving them the illusion of privacy.

“Hi,” he managed to croak.

“Hi,” Eiji whispered back.

Suddenly, Eiji yanked him into a tight, nearly crushing hug. Ash could feel him shaking as he buried his face in his neck and fisted his hands into the back of his shirt. He could feel the hot moisture of his breath against his neck, the strength of his arms. After a beat, he wrapped his arms around Eiji as well, holding him with a fierce possessiveness, resting his cheek against his hair. The embrace seemed to spiral out of time, lasting forever and no time at all before Eiji pulled back.

Ash let go reluctantly, a smile breaking through the shocked blankness of his earlier expression. Eiji stepped back. Opened his mouth. Closed it. His eyes continued to travel over Ash’s body, as thought to confirm it really was him.

Then he pulled back and punched Ash in the jaw hard enough to rock him back on his heels. He gaped at the blond man as a red mark bloomed on his cheek before bursting into tears and flinging himself into his arms.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Max step forward, saw Sing gesture him back. Other patrons were watching, staring at the spectacle.

He didn’t care. Eiji’s tears had become harsh, wracking sobs. His knees buckled and Ash staggered under the sudden weight.

Without a second thought, he scooped the shorter man up and sat in a chair, his chair. He settled Eiji on his lap and held him as he cried. He rubbed his back the same way Eiji had done for him almost five years and a lifetime ago. “Shhh. It’s over now. It's ok. I’ll stay by your side forever. I promise.” He kissed his hair and rocked a little bit side to side as he repeated himself like a new mantra for both of them.

Eventually Eiji calmed down. Max and Sing joined them. Ash laughed through his own tears as Max lectured, shaking his finger and calling him “young man.” When Eiji had finally managed to let him go, Max had pulled him into a tight hug, mumbling against his ear, “Thank God you’re ok.”

“You can punch me too, if you need to. But later, Dad. Ok?” His smirk fell short, but his snarky humor went a ways to settling the mood.

As they finally left the library, Ash tentatively took Eiji’s hand. He saw Max’s grin, heard Sing’s whistle, but he ignored them, looking only to Eiji for permission. His smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

***  
Ash caught the moment Eiji noticed his mistake. He had moved too quickly, too confidently toward Eiji’s apartment. Eiji looked at him closely, brows furrowed, lips pursed. He reached up a tentative finger, running it gently over the piercing scar on his lip.

Shit shit shit shit…. “Eiji?”

“It was you.”

Ash sincerely considered playing dumb, pretending he didn’t know what he meant. But he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t lie to him anymore. He had let so much of himself slip in the last three years. “Yeah.” His eyes were glued to the ground. Was this it? Would he be sent away?

“In Japan too?”

“Yeah. Eiji, I just--I needed to see that you were ok. I needed to be sure that you were safe. I… I’m sorry.”

“I am very angry with you, Ash.” Ash flinched. He’d known it was coming. It was still worth it to hold him one more time. “Three years I thought I was going crazy. I kept seeing you. And nobody believed me.”

“I--”

“Hush. You owe me an explanation. You owe me so many explanations. But not tonight. I don’t want to talk about that tonight. Tonight I just want to be happy that you’re alive, that you’re ok. I can be angry tomorrow.”

“Ok. I can do that. Thank you, Eiji.”

Eiji smiled at him, wide and happy. He grabbed Ash’s wrist pulling them up the stairs.

The noise when the door opened had Ash grabbing for a gun that wasn’t there. Happy faces turned towards him. Alex. Bones. Kong. Cain. And holy shit, was that Yut-Lung? He instinctively shoved Eiji behind him.

The kitchen was too far. A knife was out. Eiji likely wasn’t armed. Max either. Sing--his preferred weapon was attached to him. Hard to grab. He might be able to take a gun, but he hadn't noticed one when he’d hugged him. Bones was fast, wiry. Cain too strong to disarm easily. So Kong then…. Alex was holding…

A baby. Alex was holding a baby. The poor little thing was covered in so many ruffles she looked like a frilly pink football. Yut-Lung stood away from concealing furniture, his hands held slightly away from his body. And was that Jessica? And Michael?

What?

“Surprise!” Sing smiled at him before positively beaming at Eiji. “The gang’s all here!”

Ash stood gaping. He had only dared hope that Eiji would give him a second chance. Max had already been a surprise, however welcome. But here was a room full of people, all looking happy to see him. He didn’t know how to respond. Eiji gently pressed on the small of his back, guiding him into the room.

Yut-Lung stepped forward immediately. “As a favor to Sing, I took on Eiji’s protection. I have been aware of Blanca’s men. I mean no harm to him or to you. His safety is important to someone I consider a friend.” He bowed formally before standing and smiling more naturally. “Friendship is nice, Ash. I like it quite a lot.”

Ash nodded, unsure how to respond but hearing clearly the message behind his words. He knew. He had known for a while. He was not a danger.

Before he could get too stuck in trying to decipher exactly what that piece of information could mean, Alex stepped forward. His cheeks were pink as he adjusted his hold on his little girl. “Boss, I’d like you to meet Ashley. She, uh, she’s almost two months old.”

Ash reached forward slowly, expecting the fragile infant to be snatched away from his reach. Instead Alex laughed as the baby grabbed his finger and pulled it toward her, poking herself in the cheek before managing to tug it into her mouth. Her eyes crossed a bit as she tried to look at her fascinating new toy.

“I, uh, is this ok?” Ash looked equal parts awed and disgusted.

“It’s fine boss,” Alex chuckled. “Do you want to hold her?”

Ash was slightly panicked. Drool was slowly covering his hand as little Ashley chomped methodically at his fingers. This was not a situation anyone had ever prepared him for. He could, probably, kill every person in this room before they could take him down. He had absolutely no idea how to hold a baby.

“No way, man!” Bones came to his rescue. “You said I could hold her when she woke up! I washed my hands and everything.” And with that, his old hyperactive lieutenant scooped the baby out of Alex’s arms and flopped down onto the sofa. Deprived of her toy, Ashley began to whimper but was soon staring in concerned fascination as Bones made ridiculous faces at her.

Eiji laughed. Ash felt his own lips tug into a smile. His people were happy.

He spent time talking about his guys with Kong and Bones, school with Michael, law precedent with Cain and even child development with Alex. He was happy they had found the gift bag. Apparently several of them, perhaps at Eiji’s insistence, had begun to connect the dots between the gift and Blanca’s presence in New York.

Sing had presented what they knew and dragged more out of Yut-Lung.

“It still felt like wishful thinking, Boss,” Alex said. “But when Sing texted to tell us that you honest-to-god showed up at the library just like old times, we were ready to believe.”

Ash let himself melt into the comfort of the bear hug Max dragged him into. By this point in the evening he was nearly shaking with exhaustion and the slow leach of adrenaline as he realized that they didn’t hate him. None of them hated him.

Oh he saw the looks, the glinting eyes, the flashes of hurt betrayal. But they were all happy he was alive. And he’d likely get an earful from at least a few, perhaps a bruised jaw from a few others. But he wouldn’t have to watch his back. He didn’t feel the crosshairs between his shoulders.

The evening wore on. Ashley got fussy and Alex ducked out. Then Jessica dragged Max away reminding him that Michael had homework.

After that, guests made their goodbyes, heading out to their own homes, their own lives. He would need to relearn it all.

Most surprising of all was Yut-Lung, who handed him a pistol, ignoring the way he tensed when he brought it out. “You likely didn’t bring one through the airport. It would have been an unnecessarily stupid risk. And you’ll sleep better with one at hand. Sing can return it to me when you’ve settled in.”

He almost refused it. He so desperately wanted to be done with guns. But he also knew Yut-Lung was right. He supposed he hadn’t missed him checking Eiji’s knives for edge and balance when he’d offered to refill the ice bucket in the kitchen. So instead of refusing he simply thanked the man and slipped it into his belt.

When the last guest had gone, he reached for his bag.

Eiji grabbed his wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I thought, I left you, hurt you. I thought you might need space or time or something. I was going to go to a hotel or something.”

“No. No, Ash. I had three years of time and enough empty rooms filled with nothing but space to last a lifetime. So no. You will stay here. I will worry to death if I can’t see you with my own eyes.”

Ash smiled, then wrapped Eiji in a hug holding him tight to his chest for a long moment before letting go.

Eiji froze for a moment. And then he laughed. He swung around to hug Ash again, eyes bright. Ash saw the moment he came to some sort of decision. He smiled, happy just to see Eiji looking happy.

Eiji surged up onto his tiptoes, grabbing Ash and pulling him into a gentle kiss. To say that emotions were running high that night would be a massive understatement. And these two couldn’t be blamed if intensity flared from that innocent kiss, leaving them both pink lipped and light headed by the time they pulled apart.

“Welcome home, Ash.”

“Taidama, Eiji.”

Eiji grinned. “You learned the Japanese.”

Ash nodded, pink cheeked and pleased that Eiji noticed, that it made him happy.

“I missed you.” Eiji said grinning. “Stay by my side, ok?”

“Forever,” Ash responded.


End file.
